Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb
by pussycatwithattitude
Summary: "Love is a fabric that never fades, no matter how often it is washed in the waters of adversity and grief." Georg/Maria escape story.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **Hello! Well, you know how it is... Essay writing Sound of Music story writing. There really is never going to be any comparison. So here is a new story. I'll be honest, I have no idea how long this will be. I know the storyline, but for the amount of chapters I will be playing it by ear. Oh, and now that I have the chance, I want to thank every single one of you who read and reviewed Tinker, Tailor... I appreciate all of the response I had. I hope you will all enjoy this new story, it is keeping with the storyline of the film, starting from when Georg and Maria return from their honeymoon.  
**Rating: **T**  
****Words: **1,881

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

The train rattled through the Austrian countryside, passing through the fields and by the vast mountains that created the spectacle of this country. The prolonged delay in Vienna had caused little trouble for most of the passengers; least of all the new husband and wife who had spent a little under four weeks on their honeymoon in Paris. The weeks spent their alone had been pivotal - a time where the married couple had discovered nearly everything about their partner. The glow in the young woman's cheeks could not be placed down to anything but the love of her husband that she had experienced throughout the entire of their trip. However, deciding that they had spent long enough away from their children, they had decided to return home earlier than planned.

Georg and Maria both sat beside each other in the train carriage, Maria closest to the window. Her husband had fallen asleep just after their departure from Vienna, and Maria had spent the most of her time since smiling lovingly at his sleeping form. His usually impeccable and pristine hair had strayed from its usual state, and one curl had nestled across his forehead. With the utmost care, so as not to wake him, Maria had stroked the curl away to join the rest of his hair, but as her fingers came into contact with his skin, they lingered there for a few seconds longer. Maria had marvelled at the effect just the feel of his skin would have on her own body. It sent the most pleasurable of sparks through her body, and although at first she had been concerned about them, she soon learnt that it was normal, and the steps she had taken with her husband on their honeymoon were further proof that their relationship had now fully matured.

Finally being able to tear her eyes away from her sleeping husband, Maria's blue eyes focused on what the train was speeding past outside. The mountains brought about the state of relief they had always succeeded in doing. They had always brought ease to her lonely, or aching heart. But now, she also had a loving husband and seven children to bring this comfort. As she saw the Untersberg outside of the train window, Maria smiled. She knew that she was home now…

… But just over an hour later, she was to be mistaken again. As Georg led his new wife into their home, she knew this was where she belonged more than ever. This would be the place where she would find the most comfort for the rest of her life. This would be the place she would share with her husband.

However, as they approached the house the first thing they saw was the huge flag hovering above the front door. Maria was cautious of her husband's response to the flag, and her suspicions were correct as he immediately parked the car and stalked across to tear it down. She followed him promptly, moving one of her hands to his side; hoping it would be a source of comfort.

"I saw the town was also riddled with these," was his only response. His fist was clenched around the bottom of the flag, ready to pull it down.

"Change is happening so quickly, we just have to be ready to deal with it as well as we can."

"I'm just worried that they will… I just hope it is not soon."

Maria could sense what he was talking about, even without him referring to it in words. She too had been living in fear that he would be called to the army.

"Come on," she urged him, pulling him away from the flag that had now been torn to the ground. "Forget about it for now, let's go and find the children." She did not want him to be thrown into a fit of rage at the flag, especially in front of the children.

Georg suddenly turned to his wife, and smiled in appreciation. Then he did something which surprised his new wife.

Taken by surprise, Maria felt herself being lifted into her husband's arms.

She squealed, writhing in his grasp.

"Darling, darling what are you doing?"

Georg could only smile at her exasperated pleas, and before carrying her through the open front door he explained. "I believe it is tradition for the husband to carry his new wife across the threshold."

Maria could only laugh softly as he carried her into their house, and place her down carefully before the stairs. She then looked around, and wondered as to the whereabouts of the children. "I also believe it is customary for the children to welcome us home." Her tone was light-hearted, but a hint of disappointment was present. Those seven children had been her main focus all throughout the summer months, and the three weeks spent without them had proven difficult.

Georg moved to stand by her side after moving some of their bags, and his hand fell to her waist. He too looked around the house. "I left Max in charge," he spoke. "I expect customs have been thrown out of the window. Our home will have descended into chaos these past few weeks."

Maria laughed, turning in his hold to face her husband. "Max isn't that bad, darling. He will have just taken the children into town… Maybe to give us some time alone when we returned?"

Georg noticed the wicked glimmer in his wife's captivatingly blue eyes, and he chuckled to himself. "As much as I love this new flare, my love, I fear the children may return soon."

Maria groaned, something which excited and stirred Georg's heart and lower stomach. He soon found his new wife leaning across and attaching her lips to his own. "Then we can do something else."

"Unpack?" Georg suggested, raising his eyebrows at Maria as she firmly shook her head.

"No," she ordered. Then she took his hand and led him down the stairs. "Something else you promised me you would do when we returned from Paris."

"And what is that, my love?"

Georg was being led through the house, and eventually they reached Maria's intended destination. It was the music room, and in the middle of the room stood a large, grand piano. Its beauty was clear to any one, the wood was polished and it gleamed in the light that the large windows provided. Light was streaming through the windows, and as Maria led her husband across to the fine, leather-coated stool they became almost the spot-light. The light drowned them both.

"You promised you would teach me."

Georg looked at her. "Right now? Are you not tired?"

Maria shook her head without saying a word, and pulled her husband down to sit beside her. The stool was small, but they both sat so close to the other that there was no fear of falling off.

"Well, alright then…" Georg announced, and lifted the lid to reveal the white and black keys. He took a deep breath, the memories of this old piano stirring feelings inside, and then pressed his fingers down on the keys, checking their tuning. When he was satisfied, he turned to his new wife and took hold of her hand. "We'll start simple."

As he began to teach her simple scales, he marvelled at the way her slender fingers descended upon the keys, even with his help.

"That's right," he encouraged her, but was taken aback for a moment as her eyes closed, from what he presumed to be tiredness, however she also began to sway. He watched his wife with concern as her face turned pale. "Maria?"

Maria opened her eyes suddenly, and gave him a reassuring smile that told him perhaps she was just a little tired from their long trip. "I'm fine, darling."

Georg was not entirely convinced, but as Maria continued to play the instructed scale, he cast aside his worries for a few moments. Soon, she could play one of the more simpler scales without help, and once finished Maria looked up at her husband with an accomplished smile across her face.

"And you thought you wouldn't pick it up," Georg teased her, nudging her side slightly.

"You have no idea how long it took me to learn the guitar… all of the tantrums I threw," Maria laughed to herself and so did her new husband, having come to learn over the past summer that his wife was in fact tenacious, and very repetitious when it came to not getting her way. Maria subconsciously shifted closer to her husband on the small stool. Her husband did not mind her new position, and embraced her willingly. As Georg felt her head rest on his shoulder, he smiled, and was surprised when she made a sudden request. "Play me something," she whispered in a small, tired voice.

Unable to resist, he straightened his back and moved his fingers to the keys. He warmed up for a few seconds, before playing a tune that he knew for certain his wife would know. This song held many strong emotions - it was patriotic, and simple to his country. But it also held memories for the two of them now, a song which he had once sung in her presence.

As the opening notes flowed into her ears, Maria hummed along to _Edelweiss _and when her husband began to sing, his deep voice filling the room, she did too. Their voices matched perfectly, just like the children's voices did. Maria sung softly with her head still nestled into his shoulder, and Georg sung with similar volume.

Neither husband nor wife noticed another eight presences by the door to the music room, and both were understandably shocked when a series of claps sounded.

It was Max who spoke first. "Well maybe it's the two of you I should be asking to perform. That was beautiful, the pair of you."

Georg sighed happily at the sight of his children; Maria had lifted her head and held the usual warmth in her eyes whenever in their presence. He shut the lid to the piano and stood, approaching Max as Maria left to see the children. While Georg voiced his concerns to Max of the unwanted flag hung outside his front door, Maria was receiving a tonne of attention from the children… _Her _children.

"Fraulein Maria… I mean Mother," Brigitta corrected herself. "We didn't expect you to be back so soon." The ten-year-old was the first to be in her new mother's arms, and Maria embraced her warmly. Ensuring that she made eye contact with all of her children, and giving them a smile, she then noticed Louisa. Her look was almost passive, and there was definitely worry there too. Maria made sure to give her another reassuring glance, which also told her they would speak later if she wished.

But there was no time for a response, Maria was surrounded with the term "mother" all of a sudden, firstly from Brigitta and Marta, then Gretl and Kurt. As she then felt the presence of her husband beside her; as she then felt his arm slip around her waist, she knew she had chosen the right path; that this was the will of God.

* * *

Thoughts? There's a reason for what I did with the children, that shall all come in later chapters. How are the characters? Too saccharine? If so, I can work on it! Please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **I did have my initial second chapter written, but then I decided to give you another filler instead of leaping right into the story. So this just carries straight on from the first chapter. Thank you all so much for the feedback! All of them really do help motivate me into writing more. If updates are a little scarce, I apologise, but I'm only a few weeks away from exams at the moment, so a lot of time is being spent on those. I'll try and give you the next chapter sometime before the end of this week.  
**Rating: **T  
**Words: **2,226

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

After Georg had moved across to join the group, still gathered in the music room, all of the children looked at their father. Smiles across their faces, they all looked expectantly as he touched their cheeks affectionately. All seven children gathered around their parents, embracing the inevitable warmth they had been missing for the past few weeks. Their silence was comfortable, and as Max stood to one side he watched over the new family with a contented smile.

It was Kurt who broke the silence within the group, pulling a slip of paper from his shorts pocket and moving to stand beside his father. "Look, Father! Look, Mother!" he held the sheet in front of them both. "We're going to sing in the festival tonight." Kurt exclaimed in happiness, and soon afterwards the rest of his siblings were talking about the festival excitedly.

"What?" asked Maria, surprised at their sudden announcement. She knew her new husband would not be particularly fond of this idea. With Brigitta still clutching her side, she watched as Georg stepped forward and took the sheet from his youngest son's hand.

His eyebrow raised, and his face turned to look at Max disapprovingly.

"Well, what can I say? The committee heard them, they were a sensation. You know that too, Georg." Max's attempt to argue with his friend turned out to be a futile one.

"No, Max! My children do not sing in public."

Max, looking defeated, merely sighed. "Well, it was worth a try."

Georg and Maria then dismissed the subject and, turning to their children, announced that there may be something waiting on the terrace to their liking. "Alright, surprises for you all on the terrace."

The room soon emptied, and the only ones left were the three adults and Liesl. She began to edge closer to Maria, and her new mother could understand that she required to speak with her. Ever since she had arrived at the villa as a governess, herself and Liesl had maintained a rather good friendship. Since being told that the sixteen-year-old did not need a governess, Maria had become a governess and so much more to the maturing girl. They had spoken on many occasions, the first being the night after the terrible thunderstorm that had sent all of the children running to their governess' room for comfort. Liesl acknowledged Maria as the older sister she had never had. Over the years where her father had shied away from his children, Liesl had learnt to take care of her siblings. She had calmed their fears during thunderstorms and comforted them if they had experienced a bad day at school.

But no one had ever been there for her. No one had ever given her the opportunity to speak about her feelings, especially when it came to boys at school, and one in particular.

Maria made eye contact with her oldest daughter, and gave her an encouraging smile. Linking arms with her, she turned to her husband who gave her a small nod and then led the two of them into the comfortable sitting room.

"Mother? That sounds so nice, I like calling you that," Liesl spoke sweetly, her eyes adoringly looking up at the new woman who had now become a permanent fixture in their lives.

"I like hearing it."

"Mother, what do you do when you think you love someone? Or, when you stop loving someone?" Liesl stopped, and then looked closely at her mother. Maria gave her an encouraging look, telling her to reveal anything she wanted. "Or, when they stop loving you?"

Maria sighed, and took hold of her daughter's hand so she could pull her down onto the cushioned seat.

"Well, you cry a little and then, wait for the sun to come up." Maria watched her oldest daughter as she spoke, waiting for her reaction. "It always does," she then added with emphasis and a warm smile.

"Do you really think so?" asked Liesl, a wide and enthusiastic smile playing across her lips. Her eyes also lit, looking forward to the future with this new information. It was almost as if she was thrilled to learn that life could continue.

"You're only sixteen," murmured Maria lightly, but loud enough for Liesl to hear. "There are always going to be new chances that you can decide whether to take. I was once told to climb every mountain, and follow every rainbow until you find your dream." The wise words came flooding back to Maria in this moment, and as she recalled the reasoning for such advice her heart fluttered. Not with nerves, but with happiness. She had since returned and married the man she loved. Subconsciously, a small smile appeared on her lips.

"Who told you that?"

"The Reverend Mother," responded Maria as she was broken from her reverie. Absorbing Liesl's expression filled with such awe, she continued. "That was just before I returned to you all."

Liesl's eyes suddenly widened, although she attempted to remain subtle. But Maria had seen, and she nodded whilst still smiling. Liesl knew why her new mother had left them so abruptly - she knew why she had left to return to the abbey during the party. With this new knowledge of her mother's own experiences, Liesl could understand that the advice she had just been given would indeed work.

The sixteen-year-old reached out a hand, which Maria took warmly in her own.

"Maybe I should wait a few years," suggested Liesl.

"You have so much love to give. There's no harm in waiting until you find the right person."

"But how will I know?"

Maria glanced towards the hall, her eyes falling on her husband's study door. She did this with wanton love and affection. Then, Maria turned to face Liesl again. "You'll know, trust me."

Liesl gave her mother a smile of gratitude, and then rested her head gently on the back of the cushioned seat. As her eyes drifted to the artistically decorated ceiling, her mind wandered onto Rolfe for a brief moment. Their time together had been wonderful. Liesl would never deny herself that. All of their stolen moments in the villa gardens, mostly hidden away from the house to not risk being spotted by her interested, but nosy, siblings or her father's surprise appearance. They had laughed about how secret they were being.

Then Liesl began to recall her first kiss. She remembered the night all too well. It was the night of the thunderstorm, and the night Maria had brought herself closer to them all with a song about raindrops, kittens and strudel. But as she began to imagine Rolfe that night, the image of him earlier that day swam through her mind. Then she remembered the telegram for her father, still in her pocket…

"Mother!" Liesl instantly stood. "I have this telegram for father."

"He's in his study," Maria replied, smiling. "I can take it to him if you want? That way you can go and see your surprise on the terrace."

Her daughter's eyes widened at the mention. Maria could only laugh and before they both left the room together, she gave her a small wink.

As Liesl made her way out to the terrace, Maria approached her husband's study door. She had only been in here a few times. Before the wedding Maria and Georg had shared a few kisses and tender moments in here. With confidence that she would perhaps have been lacking before the wedding, Maria knocked on the strong, wooden door.

He called for her to enter immediately.

Maria had always felt awestruck at the sight of his own, little room. The books that lined two of the four walls gave the room a certain nostalgic feel. It was a good feel, Maria had always thought that a room without books was incomplete. She had even found an old Bible copy in here, and he had told her to take it, and any other books she wanted.

The room still had that feel as she entered, but it was not the books that her eyes first lay upon. Georg and Max were stood beside each other in the centre of the room, but it was her husband that seemed to be the dominant participant of their conversation. She could only guess that he was still voicing his displeasure at Max entering their children into the festival.

It seemed Maria had been right in her assumptions, because as Georg opened his mouth to end their conversation he spoke, "Max, the children will not be singing tonight."

The tone in his voice told his friend to leave, but in a polite manner. Max understood the need for the two of them to be alone, however before closing the door behind him he turned. "You must try and work with these people, Georg. It will only end badly for you all if you don't."

At this, Georg's head snapped up. "Max!"

The older gentleman sighed and shook his head, and before Georg could say anything else Max closed the door and left the newly married couple alone.

Once the door had closed, Maria met her husband's eyes.

"If you're going to agree with him…" warned Georg.

"No, I wasn't," responded Maria in a gentle tone. She was not surprised by his comment. "You can never be less than what you are. And that's all I'll ever ask of you."

"You don't think I'll be putting us in danger?"

Maria shook her head, her eyes never leaving him. "I know you'd never do that."

"You have so much faith," he muttered, casting his eyes to the ground and moving across to stand by his thick, oak desk. It seemed that Georg was starting to believe this country would fall into the clutches of the Third Reich easily, and that he doubted his own capabilities.

At this Maria moved to stand beside him, ignoring the returning aches in her head, and moved her hand to rub his back comfortingly. "And when, may I ask, have you given me reason to doubt my faith in you?"

Georg shrugged. He now stood facing his desk, with Maria standing directly behind him.

Maria decided to move her arms to his shoulders, bringing herself closer to him. The new contact then prompted her to speak again, "You're a rational man, Georg. You build your judgement on the information you have, therefore you'll always have reason to doubt something. But that doesn't mean I will ever doubt you."

It took Georg a few moments for these words to sink in, but when they did he turned and embraced his wife fully. She could feel as he held onto her tightly that this was his way of thanking her, presumably for easing his worries and to ensure that she had faith in him always.

When they pulled apart, Maria remembered the telegram and drew it from her suit pocket.

"Liesl asked me to give you this."

Georg took it, voicing his thanks with a gentle kiss to her lips. Maria then moved to sit on the small two-seater chair that was placed in the room whilst Georg leant back against his desk, opening the telegram.

It was as Maria sat down that she felt another wave of dizziness wash over her, and as her headaches had ceased to leave, she pressed her hand to her forehead in a feeble attempt to prevent them. It was unsuccessful, so she merely closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

Georg did not notice his wife's discomfort, because all of his attention was now focused on the telegram. He shook slightly, his knuckles flexing and relaxing as anger began to fill inside him. He breathed steadily, trying to keep calm in front of his wife.

Keeping his eyes focused on the piece of paper, he spoke in a solemn tone, "It's Berlin," then he stopped, and without looking up he knew that he had caught his wife's attention. He heard the movement against the fabric of the seat. "I've been requested to…" he trailed off, unable to voice the words that caused a discomforting lurch in his stomach. "They want me to report to Bremerhaven tomorrow."

Maria had now joined his side and had taken his arm.

"To join them would be unthinkable… But to refuse them would be, fatal for all of us."

As his body acknowledged her touch, Georg finally looked up. Maria suddenly saw all of the fear in his eyes, and she knew instantly that this would be a struggle. It would be a challenge, and her husband would need her now, perhaps more than ever for the rest of their lives.

She could not find the words that felt sufficient enough. Maria had no idea what to think.

"Get the children together," Georg spoke calmly. "Don't say anything that will worry them."

Maria nodded slowly, swallowing nervously. "OK."

"I'll speak with Max. We'll have to leave Austria, and this house tonight."

The last word was spoken almost as a whisper, almost as though her husband could not quite believe this was all happening. Husband and wife then created another sturdy embrace, their arms locked tightly around the other, knowing that their path ahead would be filled with an abundance of obstacles, all determined to trip them up no matter how hard they tried.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I should probably do one. But 'The Sound of Music' and all of its characters belong to 20th Century Fox, and anything that you recognise is also likely to not be mine.

I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: **Thank you all for the feedback! This is where the story begins to start, but the subject matter is going to be delicate so please read with caution. A huge thank you to som04 for all of the help/information you have given for the next few chapters, and for reading this chapter through.  
**Rating: **T  
**Words: **2,092

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

Maria stumbled forwards as she caught her foot on a rock. The newly married woman could not deny that her head was beginning to thump and ache as it had never done before, and a strange sensation in her stomach failed to disappear, no matter how much she attempted to forget about it. No matter how much she concentrated on her youngest daughter and her footing as they crossed the mountains on their journey to Switzerland, the pain would simply not disappear. As her grip strengthened on a little Gretl's shoulder, the young girl could not help but turn and look confusedly at her mother.

Although Maria attempted to hide it, her face was riddled with pain and exhaustion. She forced a convincing smile in her daughter's direction, and although Maria could tell that Gretl was not convinced with her actions, the look she held in her eyes told her daughter to keep walking, and that her mother would be fine. But the truth was, Maria had felt uneasy since they had left the Austrian festival the previous night. Being stood on stage was daunting, it would be to any performer given the amount of people there were in the audience, but somehow Maria knew that had not been the cause for her feeling so light-headed. She had been feeling a little similar for the past few days, even during their honeymoon, but she had mentioned nothing to her husband, merely thinking it to be exhaustion and anticipation to return home. It was worse now.

Maria recalled a moment during the previous night where she had felt light-headed, just before the nine of them had embarked upon the stage.

_Maria leant against the cool, stone wall, her eyes closing as another headache began to form. These were beginning to become a regular occurrence, and Maria often sighed at their inconvenience. The night was cool, the air was crisp, but all Maria could feel around her was stifling air. It clung to her skin, making her dress cling too, and she began to feel perspiration dripping from her brow. Then, she suddenly began to shiver…_

"_Mother…" _

_Maria knew the owner of the sweet, little voice and she opened her eyes immediately and smiled down at Marta. The smile was forced, but she still hoped it would reassure her seven-year-old. She noticed her daughter's worried expression, but before she could reassure her Marta voiced her concerns, much to the dismay of Maria as her husband turned to notice._

"_Mother, are you alright?"_

_As Georg walked across to his wife, noticing how pale she looked, he too voiced his concerns. "Maria?"_

_Taking a deep breath, she prepared an answer for her husband and seven children. "I'm fine, darlings," she addressed them all, fighting to place the convincing façade across her face that would mask her true feelings. She knew that Georg could not be concerned about her just now, everyone had to be focused on the task at hand, and not just her funny turn. "I'm just slightly nervous, that's all. I've never performed for anyone but you."_

_Maria smiled, and reached out to touch Marta's cheek as well as a nearby Fredrich, although his affectionate touch was a little more light-hearted, he was nearly fifteen after all. He seemed to smile at her reassuringly, as he always did. Maria then turned to her husband, the look on his face showing that her façade had clearly betrayed her to him. He silently asked her again what was the matter._

_Maria responded not with words, but with another affectionate touch to his cheek, to which she then leant upwards and kissed his other. She then responded, "I'll be back in a few moments. I need to freshen up before we go on."_

_With that, Maria then disappeared into the nearby toilets that the building provided. They were nothing spectacular, they were not pristine like in the villa but Maria did not care. They served their purpose as the former postulant fell to her knees and began to empty the little contents of her stomach…_

Their climb was beginning to take its effect on Maria, and as she lifted a spare arm to wipe her forehead, she let out an exasperated sigh. The sensations in her stomach soon began to feel similar to cramps. But these felt worse than before… and these seemed to be increasing in intensity. Maria let out another deep breath, it must have been her fourth of fifth in the last ten yard stretch. But the sight ahead of them soon began to ease Maria's doubts at carrying on in their escape.

"Mother, will we be stopping soon?"

Maria's thoughts soon left her own pain, and focused on her youngest daughter. She had noticed how, not once during their escape thus far had Gretl complained. Her heart went out to her in that moment, knowing that she must have been feeling weary for such a long while, but had kept it to herself. Her knowledge of the severity of this situation had clearly been the reason for her remaining silent.

"Perhaps, my darling," Maria responded in soothing tones, subconsciously rubbing smooth circles on her back which she hoped would also act as necessary motivation. "It depends when your father thinks it is best to stop."

"How long will it be until we get to Switzerland?"

Before Maria could answer, her oldest son had turned with an irritated glare in his eyes. "We still have ages yet, Gretl!"

"Fredrich…" Maria warned in her lowered voice, not wanting Georg to hear who was at the front of their formed line. Georg was seemingly still going strong with Marta on his back, and behind him was Kurt and Louisa, then Liesl, Brigitta and Fredrich. The boys had initially put themselves between their siblings, it was their way of protecting them. But as Gretl had fallen behind slightly earlier that day, Maria had told him to just walk a little ahead of the two of them.

Fredrich looked at his mother, and understood her warning. He shot her an apologetic look, and then smiled reassuringly at his youngest sister. "We'll be stopping soon, Gretl. Just try not to think about it; then we'll be in Switzerland before you know it. And there's the best chocolate there."

Gretl's expression soon went from sadness and misery to a certain degree of elation, and seemingly with a new spark of energy she skipped a little further along and left Maria's grasp. Fredrich laughed as she came to join him, surprised at her spirit, but he also noticed his mother's expression as Gretl had left her arms. It looked as though she needed the help to stand; that Gretl, no matter how small, had been a steady reassurance beside her to ensure that she would not fall.

Fredrich called out to Brigitta and Liesl in a hushed tone to take care of Gretl for the time being. They nodded and smiled, and then Fredrich subtly hung back until Maria had caught up with him.

Maria looked up at her son, marvelling at how tall he was becoming. Since she had arrived at the villa earlier in the summer, he had certainly grown an inch or two. "Fredrich, I don't need…"

Fredrich ignored her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, which was an instant relief to his mother. He noticed her change in expression, and smiled. His affection and love for this woman had grown over the past months, and although he remembered his birth mother clearly, he still appreciated and loved Maria for everything she did. He noticed how she had never attempted to take his late mother's place; she had always made it clear to the children that Agathe was their mother.

"Really Fredrich, it should be me helping you…"

"It's alright, mother," he smiled, shifting his body so more of her weight was resting on him.

Maria noticed that this had been the first occasion where Fredrich had called her mother. She had presumed that, before he had felt uncomfortable, but the sincerity in his eyes now merely told her that he had been waiting for the right moment. It seemed all three of the older children, those who remembered their birth mother so well, had not been apprehensive about calling Maria mother, but instead waiting for the moment. Although, Maria had yet to spend a moment alone with Louisa since returning from her honeymoon. Her eyes widened in gratitude of Fredrich, and across her deep, blue orbs came a sheet of tears that threatened to spill. And they would, had it not been for the cramps in her stomach that had suddenly returned with even more venom than before.

Maria scrunched up her face, attempting to block out the pain, unaware that her son was watching her with worry. She thought back to when these cramps had first seriously begun…

"_Mother, would it help if we sang about our favourite things?"_

_The abbey was dark. Maria had lived within these walls for the past few years of her life, and never had she felt so frightened within them. It was almost as though a dark mist had descended; clouding everyone in the vicinity, obscuring any vision one may have had before. There was a severe chill in the air, and Maria knew the source to this cold was the Nazi presence. _

_Maria's eyes fell to gaze upon her youngest daughter, bundled in her arms as they hid. At this moment, words completely failed Maria - it may have been the severity of the situation, or the crushing pain she had felt in her abdomen. So instead, Maria shook her head, and placed a finger to the little girl's lips. In an attempt to rid herself of the momentary pain, Maria closed her eyes tightly and let her head rest against Gretl's. _

_The pain did disappear for a while, at least until they had escaped in the caretaker's car. But once they had stepped out into the night air, the pain reappeared. It took Maria by surprise, and she doubled over in pain for a brief moment. Luckily, Georg and the children had began to walk forward, searching for a safe route to the mountains. _

_Then the pain disappeared again. Maria found that she could walk, but it took more energy than she would usually require. Walking, or running, through the mountains had been a regular occurrence for her throughout her childhood, as well as the recent years. But now, the task was beginning to look bleak._

Maria was pulled from her memories as a hand clasped around her upper arm. It was a strong, masculine hand. Her eyes opened immediately, searching for the owner, and she immediately met the eyes of her husband. The deep blue of his eyes were filled only with concern for his wife, who had turned increasingly pale. She then realised that Fredrich had left her side, and had gone to sit with his other brother and sisters by a collection of trees. They must have stopped to rest, but as she made to move and sit with them, Georg pulled her gently to one side.

They continued to walk a little way from the group, but close enough for Georg and Maria to keep an eye on them.

"Maria," Georg held both of his arms up to her shoulders. "You look far from alright…"

"Georg, I'm…" as she attempted to insist that she was indeed fine, another wave of pain washed over him and, tired from hiding her pain for so long, and torn by her fatigue and weariness, she cried out and clutched onto his shoulders. "Georg… It hurts, it hurts so much…" She trailed off, losing all of her strength and collapsing into her husband's arms. "Please, make it- Ah!"

"Maria…" Georg responded, wary of her condition and looking on, exasperated. His arms clung to her desperately, knowing that she was relying on him to remain standing. It was now that he noticed the flow of tears from her cheeks, evidence of her pain.

Another wave of pain came, and this time Maria let go of Georg and wrapped her arms instinctively around her stomach. As Maria let go, Georg promptly held onto her once more, fearful that she may fall without his support. But it seemed that as the pain continued to overhaul his wife's tired frame, she fell into a crumpled heap on the ground, crying "Georg" as she drew him to the grassy mountain top with her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: **Thank you for all the feedback to the last chapter! I really appreciate the time taken to write a review too! I hope this update will be good enough, I wasn't so sure. Oh, and just to say that the quote I've used in the summary is not mine. Thanks again to som04 for reading this through, and for the advice.  
**Rating: **T  
**Words: **1,900

**_Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb_**

Georg was instantly down on the ground by Maria's side when she fell. Her pale complexion, her watering eyes and her convulsive shaking terrified the old naval hero, and although he knew these were not similar circumstances, tormenting memories from when his first wife died returned and began to haunt his mind. He closed his eyes momentarily, one in a hope to push these memories aside, but secondly to also drown Maria's cries. Never had he heard such tones leave her mouth, and never had he seen her this vulnerable. Their first night as husband and wife came close, Maria had been nervous that night, but not to this extent – not where she was now surrendering to her weakening body.

Another muffled scream filled his ears.

Maria had buried her face into Georg's jacket, the pain unbearable as she began to screw her eyes shut. Maria had always closed her eyes tightly, ever since she was a child – somehow she had imagined that closing her eyes with such vigour would cause whatever was hurting her to disappear. She would have imagined opening them and finding that everything was better.

But it rarely worked in her childhood, and it proved not to be working now. As Maria slowly opened her eyes, her body fraught with painful cramps, her eyes lifted upwards to meet her husbands own eyes. The fear that she could read across his eyes frightened her. There was no doubt, Maria would perhaps have let out another painful scream both out of pain and fear, had it not been for her husband's tight and reassuring grip around her. His eyes may have deceived his attempt at remaining strong for his wife, but his hold around her did all that he had ever promised her in those few seconds. At their wedding, both had vowed to protect each other for as long as they both shall live. On the night of their wedding, Georg had promised her that he would be there to ease any discomfort she would ever feel.

As Georg kept to his word, Maria closed her eyes tightly again and buried her head into his study chest. "Georg," she whimpered.

His hands came up to gently rub her back; they ran through her hair as he emanated hushed tones, all in an attempt to calm his wife. Well, not all these attempts were to calm Maria. Georg would have been a liar, and a fool, to say that he was not frightened. The feel of Maria in his arms, his strong embrace around her, brought some degree of warmth to his cold frame.

Neither could tell how long they sat crouched on the grassy mountain top, but after a while, and after the pain for Maria had initially subsided, she lifted her head. Her complexion had not significantly changed, there was still no usual colour to the cheeks that would always hold such life and activity. Her hands were still shaking, however as she pulled herself away from Georg his head rose instinctively to protest.

"Maria," he murmured, but in a tone that offered little option to disagree.

"I think I'll be alright," Maria protested, rising to her feet. Her voice was still weak – there was no strength laced in the usual enthusiastic tone, and it honestly frightened her husband. "The children need us, and– Ah!"

Maria clutched her stomach once more, and without the support of her husband, fell to the ground alone. Tilting her head, she looked up at the afternoon sky, eyes watering from the return of the excruciating pain that took over her lower abdomen. Maria cried out for Georg again, and he was by her side during that second. She felt the hands of her husband gently soothing her back, rubbing in a circular motion.

Maria suddenly experienced a strange feeling, and upon reaching down and bringing her hand back up before her, she realised that her hand was stained with blood.

Her exasperated cry caught the attention of her husband.

Georg too looked up at his wife's hand, closed his eyes painfully. Georg knew instinctively what was happening to his wife. He felt a dull, familiar ache settle within his chest and a sickening feeling dwell upon his stomach. Whether or not he had known of this beforehand was not relevant. The truth was, Maria and himself had created their first child on their honeymoon. But now, matters had decided to go against them; a higher power somewhere had decided that this should happen. They had lost their first child.

For a few more moments, Georg could not do anything but bring his wife closer to his chest. He felt that his arms were wrapped impossibly tighter than they had ever been. As he felt her head fall to rest in his chest, once more muffling her cries, he let his head droop onto her shoulder. Georg let out a small, silent cry.

* * *

Georg had finally convinced his own logical mind to release himself from their embrace. Calling their oldest daughter over, Liesl had left the younger children and joined her parents. Just by looking at her expression, it could easily be read that she was just as worried; just as frightened as all of the family. The evidently lowering fatigue of her mother, and the state she was finding herself in was alarming to all of the children – especially since their only memories of Maria were running enthusiastically across their hills, lively games of hide and seek and tag in the villa grounds, extravagant puppet shows with silly singing tunes to learn…

Gretl sat, cradled in the arms of Louisa whilst the older girl attempted to mask her true concerns. Marta was huddled between Louisa and Brigitta whilst the two boys sat around them, creating a protective circle that came instinctively to the brothers and sisters. Brigitta would often look across at her mother and father, but her eyes would avert almost instantly at the intensity of the situation. It pained her to see her parents in so much pain, her mother especially.

"Liesl," Georg began as she walked across to join her parents. He lifted his hand to her arm, but somehow the words required merely slipped out of his mouth without being spoken. His mouth opened, but no words came out. It became frustrating, the sign of such vulnerability, but his oldest daughter understood.

Liesl reached out her hand and rubbed her father's arm in a reassuring manner. She also reached up to his face, promptly pressing her lips to his cheek before dropping to the floor beside her distraught mother.

The pain radiated from her expression. Anyone could tell the woman was in pain, no matter how hard Maria tried to hide it. As Maria bent her head to face the ground once more, clutching her stomach as the pains of the cramps increased, Liesl moved forward and wrapped her arms around her mother. She attempted to provide reassurance in hushed tones.

Meanwhile, Georg had stepped across to join his other children. The younger ones instinctively looked up expectantly, eager to hear any news of their mother's wellbeing. But the expression in the face of their father kept them all silent. Georg, noticing his children's fearful expressions, knelt down to affectionately touch his youngest daughter's cheeks. Then he ruffled the hair of Kurt, who responded with a small smile and a glimmer in his eye that told his father he could be relied on to protect his family.

"Fredrich, Louisa… Brigitta," their father nodded to one side, and they all understood what he meant for them to do. Leaving their other siblings, they all followed their father.

Kurt, now sat between his two youngest sisters, pulled them both closer with both his arms. As they both buried themselves into his small frame, he wrapped his arms tighter. "Don't worry Gretl," he spoke as he heard the muffled cries of his youngest sister. "We'll both buy the hugest amount of chocolate ever when we get to Switzerland!"

Although the eleven-year-old did not receive an audible response from his sister, he knew that his comment had brought a small smile to her face. Gretl had buried her head so deep into her brother's shoulder that he could feel even the smallest of twitches.

Georg took three of his children a little away from the group. Brigitta immediately moved herself into her father's arms, and Georg appreciated this. It had taken most of his strength to leave his wife alone, even if it was only to be for a few minutes. His daughter provided a sturdy reassurance beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her too in response.

"Is mother alright, father?"

"Is mother alright?"

Both Fredrich and Louisa spoke at once. The two children had restrained from asking until now, concerned about their parents and the problems it seemed they were trying to overcome.

Georg shook his head, choosing to be truthful with the children he was about to place so much trust in. "No," he murmured, subconsciously clutching tighter to Brigitta. "She's not alright, she's in a lot of pain." The children did not ask why, but instead continued to listen to their father. "Now, I need you three to do something for me."

At this last statement, all three of the children looked up at their father. There was an expectant tone in his voice, but it was laced with apprehension. But apprehension at their mother's condition, not doubting their abilities to do whatever he was about to ask them.

Georg then began to explain his plans. All three of the children nodded, taking the huge responsibility with bravery and courage.

It took all of their father's strength not to cry with pride.

Instead, he pulled Louisa into his arms. "Thank you," he whispered.

Then he turned to Fredrich who held out his arm. Georg took it, but then pulled Fredrich towards him, and his son was only too happy to oblige. The reassurance of his father's arms was something he knew he would never want to neglect. A sturdy handshake may have been custom, but logic had been forgotten at this moment, and all that mattered was emotion.

Afterwards, Georg turned to Brigitta. Her eyes were shining; tears were threatening to fall.

"Father," her voice croaked. "Mother will be alright…"

Georg nodded slowly, but surely.

"Just you focus on what I told you. You'd read more books by the time you were seven, than I ever did until I reached seventeen."

Brigitta laughed slightly, allowing a tear to fall down her cheek. But she hastily wiped it away.

"You know people, Brigitta. You know who will help us, you know who to trust."

Georg knelt down to ensure that he could look his daughter in the eyes.

"Your mother and I trust you, we need you now."

Now Brigitta could not stop the tears as they cascaded down her cheeks – she felt herself pull towards her father, and immediately her arms had wrapped around his neck. Father and daughter embraced momentarily, before pulling away.

Georg shared one last reassuring look with his children before nodding at them, watching as they disappeared behind a nearby hill. He then returned to Maria, who was now sobbing into Liesl's dress as the pain had failed to subside. As Georg took his wife into his arms, he noticed that her eyes were close to closing – assuming it was down to exhaustion. The oldest daughter left to comfort her brother and sisters, aware that her parents needed to be alone. Once alone, Georg began to cradle Maria in his arms, pressing his lips to her hair.

"Georg," Maria murmured, exhausted from the pain and her lowering fatigue.

"Soon," Georg murmured back, his lips close to her ear. He kept her still, knowing that any sudden movement would cause her pain. "Soon, my love. Everything will be alright."


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: **Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can only apologise for how long this has taken – life is hectic, the most it has ever been. My thanks again to som04 for reading this through. I'll apologise now, because I don't think I'll manage another update for at least a week – exams start a week tomorrow. They're quite nicely spaced apart though, so writing will be quite manageable in between. Please read and review, the e-mail notifications really do make my day!  
**Rating: **T  
**Words: **2,295

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

The children waded through a patch of overgrown grass, slowing like a lone wolf would whilst entering unknown territory. It was not through weariness or lowering fatigue that Fredrich, Louisa and Brigitta were finding it difficult to cross the demanding landscape, but the trepidation in their hearts when they focused on the task ahead of them. Their minds were constantly thinking back to the situation they had left, and neither one of them could bear to remember their mother in pain without closing their eyes.

Their father and his blunt comment when the three had asked if their mother was all right had frightened the children. The acknowledgment that their father was hiding nothing from them was both fearful, but also filled them with a strange sense of pride. But the children knew that pain could break their father. It had torn him apart from his children once before, and in the back of their minds that memory still lingered, even since his miraculous transformation by the hands of their new mother.

It was Brigitta who first conceded to the tears, but attempted to hide them by occasionally looking up at the sky. The young girl knew that looking down was evidently pessimistic of her; that focusing her eyes on the rough ground that lay ahead would only make their journey harder to complete. By looking up at the sky, there seemed to always be respite to the pain she felt. The fear could subside at just one glance. The sky brought opportunity and chance – it's simplicity was mesmerising, and Brigitta knew why her mother loved the outdoors so much. It offered no restrictions, only open windows.

The three brother and sisters remained silent in their task. Their father had been calm and composed whilst telling them of this task, but even that memory could not deter the children from maintaining a complete focus. And, neither dared speak for fear that it would cause a hurricane of emotion to wash over them.

They were to walk and find a place where the family could potentially take refuge. They were to search for help in the mountains, hoping that the generosity and good will of some soul would take them into their arms and provide the help their mother desperately needed. Brigitta knew that she could read a personality, often from first sight. She knew who to trust. It brought her some length of happiness to know that her father knew about this, and acknowledged her capabilities, and furthermore trusted her now, in this situation where fear remained such an overpowering emotion.

As one, single tear slipped down Brigitta's cheek she let out a heavy sigh and brought her gaze back down and to her siblings. Both Fredrich and Louisa kept their eyes firmly planted on the path ahead, neither had noticed their sister turn.

"Will Mother die?" came Brigitta and her weak voice. It was riddled with pain and fear. She could not remember a time where she had felt so frightened. Frightened, not just for her mother but for the rest of their family too.

Brigitta knew that grief could pull people together in a way that nothing else ever could, but she also knew that it could quite as easily tear them apart. Herself, and her brothers and sisters, knew of this from experience.

At this, both Fredrich and Louisa stopped and turned to look at their younger sister. Compassion and sincerity filled their eyes, and without verbally responding Louisa moved across to wrap her arms around her younger sister. Brigitta buried her face into her sister's chest, allowing the inevitable tears to fall as the fabric of her dress muffled her sobs.

"Sssh," Louisa murmured into the head of her sister, hoping that the soothing tones would ease the worries that all three children, undoubtedly, felt. "Everything will be all right soon."

It was clear that Louisa did not only make reference to their mother's situation, but also that of the family's main reason for climbing across the mountain terrain.

Fredrich stood slightly away from his sisters in a state of momentary silence. He watched them with wide eyes, longing to move across and join them, to wrap his arms around them and provide the comfort he longed to give. But something stopped him – it was nothing like pride, or the realisation that he was changing and on the brink of manhood. Instead, it was the words of his father ringing in his ears like the bells back in Salzburg. They rang and rang continually for a short period of time, they would leave for a while, but then they would return. It seemed that any thought could provoke their return.

"_Please Fredrich, be as quick as you can."_

His father had not said anything more, presumably not wanting to frighten his son further. Georg had witnessed the brave look across his eldest son's face, but although his façade could have been entirely convincing to some, his father could see straight through it. He knew, because he often did the same. It seemed to be a family trait, passed down from father to son. Deep in his eyes he saw the fear – the fear that he did not have the courage to admit. But he knew that this fear would be the driving force as he battled with weariness and fatigue.

"Mother will be fine," Fredrich spoke softly, but with an equally firm tone.

Both of his sisters stirred from their embrace and looked up. Brigitta and her eyes were weary, her brother could see the red, puffy image that would usually mean she had been battling for a while not to cry.

"How do you know?" Brigitta asked.

"Because we're going to find help."

Resigning to merely a nod, the two sisters moved to stand beside their brother. The three embraced momentarily, revelling in the warmth and comfort they could bring to each other. It had always worked tremendously over the years, the time when their father had distanced himself from his children. Fredrich, being the tallest of the three, wrapped his arms around his two younger sisters and rested his head atop of theirs. Communications were made in those moments without even speaking, and once they had parted they continued with their journey.

As they came to a steep area of land, the group had to slow down and assist each other in climbing down safely. The rocks were troublesome to climb down, and as Fredrich and Brigitta reached the bottom unharmed it left just Louisa to skilfully climb.

"Take my hand if you want," Fredrich offered.

Louisa waved away his request to help, confident in her own abilities.

However, it seemed that these abilities wavered momentarily. A small, but deceitful rock sat in the path of Louisa's movement, and as her foot caught on it she slipped and fell onto her back. Luckily, she remained stationary, her hands gripping onto the steep bank.

"Louisa!"

Both her siblings had yelled as she had slipped.

"I'm fine!" came her indignant response.

Slowly, and articulately, Louisa manoeuvred herself to successfully move down the bank. As she reached the bottom, finding they had encountered a small brook, she was immediately enveloped by Brigitta.

"I thought you were going to fall."

"Who climbed the trellis with a jar of spiders in her hand?"

Mentioning this, Louisa could not help but grin. She was still extremely proud of her achievements when they used to play tricks on their governesses.

Brigitta conceded, and smiled. "I guess you're right."

For the first time, the three children turned and faced the other side of the brook. After crossing easily – they had crossed the brook on their special mountain plenty of times before, and after all, it was quite small – they settled their eyes on the fields ahead.

In areas, the grass was quite high. But in others, it looked like it had been cropped. The mountains suddenly had a particular warm feel, almost as though they were close to their destination. In the distance, the outline of a farmhouse could be visualised – all three children saw it simultaneously, and their mouths widened into unmistakeable smiles.

"Look!" Fredrich yelled, pointing. "A farm!"

"Will anyone live there?" Louisa asked.

As Fredrich and Louisa began to hurry forward, Brigitta held back and searched the land with her eyes. She remembered exactly what her father had mentioned to her specifically, and nothing now would stop her doing so.

"Look, there's a man in the field!"

Brigitta heard the voice of her brother again as he rushed forward and, deciding that she could not decipher the honesty of a man from hundreds of yards away, followed her siblings as they rushed forward to the centre of the land.

As they approached the older man, he seemed startled by their appearance, and their loud voices. Fredrich was the loudest, he had been shouting the man since he had began running. Louisa was not far behind him, although Brigitta remained slow in her approach as she studied his features carefully.

He was old. Presumably in his late sixties – he led his old, black horse by the reins with precision, tenderness and care, a sign that he had been working from such an early age. His clothes did not speak of wealth, but of years and years of dedication to the fields that surrounding his own home. The silver colour of his hair shone in the sun, and the occasional gust of wind blew particular strands across his wrinkled forehead. As Brigitta stepped closer, she studied the man further.

He was speaking to Fredrich now, asking why the children were on his land.

There was a hint of anger across the blue of his eyes. He eyed the children suspiciously, but once Fredrich began explaining their situation, the younger girl could see his eyes warm with a certain amount of care and worry. Brigitta knew, from the signs before and now, that this man was sincere and would help them.

"Please Sir, you must help us. It's our mother."

Fredrich was pleading, his hands clasped together as he doubled over slightly.

"Where is she?" The man asked, looking around the fields for any sign of others.

"She is with our father, and our brother and sisters. We have only been walking for thirty minutes," Fredrich tallied in his head, coming to the conclusion that this had been the amount of time that had passed.

The old man nodded, loosening his hold on the horse's reins. He turned to Brigitta and held them to her. "Would you take her back to the farmhouse? My wife is there, she will know what to do."

Brigitta nervously took the rein and nodded, gulping.

The old man noticed her fear, however, and then reconsidered. "Actually, if both of you go," he motioned to Louisa as well. "My name is Hans, my wife will look after you while your brother and I fetch the rest of your family. Tell her what has happened."

For the first time, Hans smiled at Brigitta. It was a warm smile and Brigitta, despite the circumstances, failed to hold back a smile of her own. With that, Brigitta and Louisa cautiously but with confidence, walked towards the farmhouse.

Hans and Fredrich watched them go before turning themselves and following the same path that the three children had come from a while ago. They spoke little on their journey to the rest of the family, but any words that were spoken only added to the positive view Fredrich had of this man. Even though he was old, he still had the energy to keep up with Fredrich as they hurried through the grassy tops and the occasional demanding mountain tops.

The old man cast a glance over at Fredrich on numerous occasions, and often wondered of his age. He could not be more than fifteen, he presumed – if not less. Hans was mesmerised by the courage this young boy had. However, that only caused his heart to beat quicker at the thought of what tragic incident could be motivating this courage. The older man also wondered what reasons a family could have for crossing the borders like this, he had his suspicions but he still wondered.

Marta was the first child to greet Hans and Fredrich as they returned!

As Marta exclaimed that Fredrich had returned, all of the children that had remained behind stood and greeted their brother. Their father, however, was adamant not to leave his wife's side. Maria had closed her eyes not long ago – exhaustion had overwhelmed her tired frame. The pain had begun to subside more often, but the cramps would still return with venom and leave her whole body at their mercy.

Her face was unbelievably pale, porcelain and like a china doll. One touch, and you would fear she would shatter. Her eyes did not even flutter at the commotion her children were now making, although this did not alarm Georg. He knew of her tiredness, and the regular and repetitive breathing as she remained in his arms calmed him.

Fredrich, deciding to take further control, led Hans away from his siblings and towards his mother and father.

"Father…" Fredrich trailed off as his father looked up. "This is Hans, he has a farm."

Hans could immediately tell by the way his eyes searched past the pair that the man was asking for the whereabouts of his two other daughters. "I asked them to stay with my wife. She will be prepared by the time we return."

"Please," the Captain pleaded, his eyes torn with emotion. "Please, my wife. She needs–"

"The farm is not too far away, Sir. Follow us."


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: **A surge of energy just for writing appeared, and this appeared. I hope you enjoy. For disclaimer purposes, anything you recognise will most likely belong to 20th Century Fox. The old couple are mine, and I hope you will find their characters believable. Thank you all for the feedback.  
**Rating: **T  
**Words: **1,767

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

It was a struggle to carry Maria to the farmhouse. Any movements caused unbelievable amounts of pain to ricochet through her body, and her continuous cries were beginning to leave the youngest children frightened. Some areas of land were harder to cross than others. The night had latched ahead of the tremulous afternoon, however, and even though the skies were beginning to darken and fold into complete darkness, the travelling group was gracious that the sun had not left them exposed. It would have been an uncomfortable addition to their task, and already the von Trapp family were depleted and lacking most of their usual energy and enthusiasm in physical activities.

As the sun continued to creep lower, drooping and slowly disappearing over the picturesque hill tops, Georg brought a murmuring Maria closer to his frame. The sea Captain could feel his wife stiffen at the pain she still felt, and her weariness contributed little to the welfare of her state. Silent tears were beginning to slip down her pale cheeks, but her attempt at hiding them from her husband was futile. He had heard her nose sniffle, and in response had pressed his lips to the top of her head, attempting to sooth her with hushed tones and whispering words of comfort.

The group arrived at the old farmhouse justifiably slower than Fredrich, Louisa and Brigitta had done a while earlier. The night sky had stolen the day's glory and a few stars were beginning to appear in the sky, like pin pricks dotted masterfully. Maria would usually have loved the stars – she often looked to them for reassurance; making patterns when she felt sad which would then turn to happiness – but now, with her face burrowed into her husband's coat, she did not notice. The pain, once again, had subsided, but from past experience Maria knew that believing it had disappeared altogether was futile and foolish.

Reaching the front door of the farmhouse, a picturesque arch covered in a stylist gathering of overgrown foliage, they were met by an old woman with a worried expression, yet radiant and comforting smile. Georg was immediately relieved to see Louisa and Brigitta appear behind the woman, content looks across their faces. It would have been asking too much for them to have been smiling, given the circumstances.

"The girls told me as much as they could," the old woman spoke in hushed tones as she approached her husband outside. Hans had remained close to Georg and a tired Maria whilst the children had remained slightly ahead of them, Fredrich being the leader of the group. "They said that their Mother had collapsed and that their Father had sent them to find help."

The tone of the old woman spoke of experience in almost any region of knowledge. Should anything be put before her, Georg instantly presumed that she would cope with impeccable amounts of calm and would perform in a collective manner. Gaining a closer look of the woman, he noticed the colour of her eyes – a light brown, but ones that held such vast amounts of warmth. It reminded him of Maria's eyes; the sincerity brought him to an immediate state of comfort. It eased his agitated stance, and as he brought Maria subconsciously closer to his body he already felt that, eventually, everything would be all right.

Hans put an arm around his wife. An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group which was only broken by another muffled cry from Maria. It was not entirely through pain that Maria was still feeling uncomfortable, but the drowsiness and the lack of basic comforts too. Maria had never been one to bathe in luxury, but a blanket would not have gone amiss now – or, adding to that, a bed.

The old woman sensed their discomfort, so decided to take the necessary action. Her eyes fell upon Maria.

"All right, children, let's go inside. Your sisters have boiled some water and prepared your beds for the night," announced the old woman, ushering them all inside and motioning for Georg to follow her.

The older woman made her way through the house. They passed through the cosy, living room that was looked upon as soon as entering through the door. To the left was a long wall, cabinets and book cases lined upon it that were full of collectible items, and on the wall ahead of them was a huge, burning, log fire and surrounding it from all three sides were comfortable, fabric chairs. The woman led them to the right, and to the stairs that were situated in the corner. Taking the briefest of looks around the home his family was forced to reside in, Georg presumed that one of the two other doors led to a kitchen.

The three adults climbed the stairs, and of the four doors she led them through one. Opening the door, there appeared a moderate room – its size was neither large nor small. A double bed fitted the middle of the room perfectly, and there was enough space around it to walk. To the right of the bed was a large wardrobe against the wall.

"Place her down here," instructed the older woman, pulling back the bed sheets and motioning with her old, wrinkled hands.

Georg was wary of relieving himself of Maria's touch, but knowing that it would indeed increase his wife's comfort, he placed her down on the bed. The movement caused her to grumble in pain, and as soon as she had been placed on the mattress, Maria wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach and started to move into the fetal position.

Her husband had learnt in the first couple of days of their honeymoon that Maria would sleep in this position – that is, when she had not fallen asleep in Georg's arms. It seemed to be her source of comfort, the one which her subconscious placed her in.

Georg and the old woman left Maria to get used to the bed for a few minutes, just watching her with concerned glances. But when Maria moved again, in a bid to get comfortable, they noticed that some of the sheets had been stained.

_Red_.

The older woman promptly sprung into action – she went to Maria's side and brought her around to lie flat on the bed, moving her hand to her forehead and checking her temperature. She was still pale, and beginning to sweat. Her eyes remained closed and seeing as her expression begin to change, the two could sense that the pain had returned.

The woman turned to look at Georg. "How far along was she–"

She did not want to voice the question to Maria.

"I don't know," answered Georg quietly. He ran his hands through his hair, seemingly tormented and distressed. "It can't have been more than a few weeks…" Georg trailed off.

The woman nodded, and as her husband appeared at the door, she smiled and motioned for Georg to join his wife at her side. "Stay with her, I'll be back soon with some things that should help ease the pain."

She rose from the bedside and joined her husband at the door.

But at that moment, a small frame wriggled past Hans at the door and came sniffing at the bed. It jumped onto the bed almost straight away, curious as to whom the new visitors were.

"Oh I'm so sorry," the woman offered by ways of apology. "He can be a mischief… Ralph!"

The lady shouted at the small, Jack Russell dog that had now settled himself into Maria's side. His ears shot up at the sound of his name, and the notion that he had done wrong. But as his eyes widened and stared at his master by the door, the look in his eye told them that he had no intention of moving. But Ralph seemed to have had an effect on Maria, because in her sleep she had become much calmer – her breathing had steadied considerably.

"It's fine, he can stay," murmured Georg, remaining quiet so he would not disturb his sleeping wife. "I always did have a soft spot for dogs."

Georg then settled himself down beside Maria.

But he failed to notice the woman's concerned glances as she left the room with her husband.

"Rosmarie, what is it?"

"Send for the doctor, Hans."

Those four words were spoken with so much conviction that Hans knew that the incident had been fairly serious. He left the house immediately in search of their local doctor while Rosmarie headed to the kitchen and prepared some warm drinks for the two adults. The children had already been settled, and were all sat in the living area; huddled around the fire.

Rosmarie smiled at them all, taking pity on their current situation and how it had evidently frightened them all. She had learnt little from Louisa and Brigitta when they arrived – all they could tell her was that their mother had collapsed on their journey through the mountains, and that she looked in great amounts of pain.

She noticed that the children were all far too old to be Maria's children, and already she felt an overwhelming sense of pride and love for the woman that had clearly captured these children's hearts. So much so that they called her _Mother _with such adoration. As she watched the children, the eldest girl had brought her arms around the two youngest. Both had unmistakable tears in their eyes, and Rosmarie could tell that the others were forcing themselves not to do the same. The two boys were sat on either side of their other two sisters, their protective nature clear from even the simpler of gestures.

"Now, what do we have here?"

Rosmarie announced herself in the room, smiling slightly as she attempted to liven the condition and cure the silence in the room.

It was Brigitta who spoke after a moment more of silence. It seemed that she felt more comfortable with Rosmarie, having already spent more time with her. "We're just worried about our mother, and we saw Hans leaving…"

"Your mother is sick, but she will be fine."

Relieved sighs were heard throughout the room.

"But it will take a while before she gets better; Hans has gone to get the doctor to come and examine her."

The oldest child, to which Rosmarie would later learn is called Liesl, looked up. "Thank you."

Responding with a warm smile, Rosmarie then left the living room to prepare the drinks for Georg and Maria.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: **Thank you all again for the response. I'm trying to get these updates to you as quickly as possible, after Tuesday I have only have one exam left, so more time will be spent on writing. A huge thank you to som04, once again, for looking through this chapter and for the advice. I hope you all think Maria's reaction is fitting to her character, it is what I've been worrying about the most. And on a non-Sound of Music related comment, if you have not listened to the latest _Train _album, I would highly recommend.  
**Disclaimer: **As much as I always long to, I will never own The Sound of Music.  
**Rating: **T, please be cautious when reading this chapter, it may be a sensitive area.  
**Words: **2,885**  
**

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

Hans sent for the doctor. He was middle–aged and local, and he came from the small village a few miles away from the farmhouse. As Hans and Rosmarie lived just across the border in Switzerland, they often received their food products, any other goods and medical assistance from there. No one would ask questions about the old, married couple – after all, Hans' family had lived there for generations, and the couple's three children had gone to school in the village. It just seemed as though Hans and Rosmarie wished to be isolated, alone in the hills on their old farm.

But when Doctor Schmidt arrived, he felt almost compelled to ask questions. He knew of the political circumstances in Austria, many old Austrian friends he had trained with had either been strung into working and being an advocate for Hitler's Nazi party, or had fled the country with their families. Taking one glance at the seven, tired–looking children the doctor felt that something serious must have happened.

When Doctor Schmidt asked Hans who his guests were, he promptly allowed his creative flare to be released. He was about to open his mouth and speak when Rosmarie interrupted.

"They're close friends of ours, they were coming to stay for a week before the children returned to school," Rosmarie knew that the school calendar began in a week from years of experience with her children. "But when Maria arrived she was in so much pain, we called for you straight away."

Hans secretly smiled at his wife and her ability to weave a lie.

Rosmarie then continued. "I hope you don't mind examining her, Doctor Schmidt. After all, you don't know the family–"

"Not at all," the doctor smiled, pleased and content with the explanation.

"Please, follow me," spoke Rosmarie, motioning with her hand for him to follow her up the stairs. Taking one look back at the room full of anxious children, she caught Hans' eyes and a secret conversation evidently occurred between them. Only seconds later, the older man was walking into the kitchen and preparing drinks for all the children.

Rosmarie then led Doctor Schmidt upstairs and into the spare bedroom. Maria was still lying on the bed asleep, the small Jack Russell was still content by her side, and Georg was sat by Maria's side, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

Ralph, not recognising the unfamiliar presence in the room, growled nervously. It was not until Rosmarie held up a finger to quieten him that he let the doctor approach the bed.

Georg, at first glance, was apprehensive at the appearance of the doctor. Not knowing the doctor was the initial cause of doubt, but the safety of his family during these hard times was also reason to not put his complete trust in the man on first glance. He studied the man closely, unaware that Hans and Rosmarie had already produced a believable excuse for their stay here.

As the doctor noticed Georg's apprehensive expression, he began to reassure him, "Oh please don't worry, Sir. Rosmarie here filled me in on your situation, and I will still examine your wife and determine what has happened."

Georg, in disbelief, glanced up at the old woman who had come through the door and closed it behind her, and now stood at the bottom of the bed. She gave him a warning glance, as if to secretly say do not say anything else, which was also accompanied by a small, reassuring smile. Georg had no choice but to feel reassured at her glance, after all she had done nothing to discomfort him thus far.

His eyes then turned back to Doctor Schmidt, who was beginning to move closer to Maria. The new levels of noise in the room caused her eyelids to flutter, and only moments later the crystal, blue eyes that Georg had learned to love so much appeared. But, as opposed to usual, her eyes failed to resemble her former self. The depth Georg would usually look into were covered by a dull sheet that spoke volumes of the aching and the pain she was currently suffering from.

Upon seeing an unfamiliar man by her side, Maria began to panic. She called out the one person she knew could be there, the one who had promised to be beside her through sickness and health. Her husband. "Georg–" She called out with an exasperated cry, but was interrupted by _his_ soft, calm and reassuring tone.

"Ssh," he soothed her, moving his hand to her forehead to push the strands of her hair to one side. "You're safe now, we're all safe. This is Doctor…"

Georg paused, looking up at the doctor.

"Schmidt," the doctor kindly answered with a smile.

"Doctor Schmidt," Georg continued to reassure his wife. "Maria, he's here to find out what was causing you so much pain."

At this, Georg felt compelled to turn away from his wife. He knew the reason for her pain, for the bleeding, and thought himself weak for not being able to tell his own wife. But his own mind – the logical, rational thinker of his sometimes impulsive body – reassured him that telling Maria on the mountain would only have caused her further distress. And what if he had been wrong? What if he had misjudged the signs? Surely it was better to have waited for the doctor, or more experienced eyes.

"Maria," Doctor Schmidt addressed his new patient warmly, reaching to the floor and placing his bag down. "As your husband said, I am here to help." The doctor momentarily glanced towards Georg. Usually he would ask the husband to leave the room, but one look at the couple told him that it would most likely cause them further distress if he were to separate them. "Could you tell me what happened? Where does it hurt?"

The series of questions hit Maria with force. She closed her eyes straight away, recalling on the memories of only earlier today, and once having revisited them she let out a painful cry.

After much strain, Maria began to slowly explain to the doctor what had happened earlier that day. Her account of everything was brief, not wanting to dwell on these memories for longer than necessary. All she wanted was for the pain to disappear.

It soon became clear to the doctor through Maria's explanation, Georg's occasional input when her sobs overwhelmed her entire body and also his worried glances, that Maria had indeed suffered a miscarriage. Doctor Schmidt had witnessed far too many during his years in the profession, and it pained him to see the devastating affect it had on the two parents. After a prompt, but thorough, examination of Maria, the doctor could draw his assumption to a definite conclusion. The adamant dog, during this time, had graciously moved to the bottom of the bed, sensing that the doctor needed to be close to this new woman. But Ralph made sure to watch with wide eyes.

"Frau…" Doctor Schmidt began, both wary of his approach to revealing the devastating news and that he was unsure of his patient's surname.

"_Maria_," she almost begged him to call her, long having forgotten all formalities. Georg was secretly pleased they had kept their surname out of the equation. A small wave of pain, perhaps too of anxiety, washed over Maria, to which she cried out. Turning her head to one side, she tried to burrow herself beneath the covers of the bed, but when the doctor began speaking once again she looked up.

"Maria," the doctor spoke again, stopping before continuing, "I'm sorry to have to tell you, but I'm afraid you have suffered a miscarriage. It is, unfortunately, common within the first few weeks of pregnancy, and–"

Doctor Schmidt stopped, realising that Maria was now motionless and despondent to all that he was saying. It was clear from her facial expressions and her distant eyes that she was fighting disbelief. As she stared intently at the far wall, the doctor noticed her swallow nervously before she seemed to look back to him, wanting to listen.

"As I was saying, Maria, this is unfortunately common in the first weeks of pregnancy…" As the doctor continued to speak, Maria felt the hands of her husband soothing the numbness of her hands. She still could not believe what she was hearing. Pregnant! She could not have been pregnant. Surely she would have known? Should she have known? If she had recognised the signs, would she have prevented the miscarriage? Wait! The signs she had felt towards the end of their honeymoon, were they telling her she was pregnant? It was then that Maria began to tremble in fear, but also in anger.

"I couldn't be, I mean–"

Maria stammered, attempting to speak those words with conviction, but alas came only ruins.

"You were only in the first weeks, Maria. It would have been extremely difficult to notice–"

"But…" Maria trailed off, beginning to shake convulsively in her husband's arms. "I couldn't, no. I mean, I–" She stopped once more, and this time an anguished cry emitted from her mouth. It was a cry of loss; a cry of devastation. "Please, there must be a mistake, there must be…" Maria trailed off herself, a response from the doctor not required as she began to accept the information she had been given.

As Maria then gave in to her feelings, she let the adamant tears freely cascade down her cheeks. They rolled, and rolled and would not stop, even as Georg pulled her gently to turn into his body. Her sobs would not cease, even as Georg began to rub circles on the back of her travel dress. No words were spoken between them, Georg felt that none were necessary. Whispering words of comfort to his wife were not likely to bring her respite now.

"We'll leave you both alone for a while," the voices of Doctor Schmidt and Rosmarie sounded in the air, but neither Georg nor Maria acknowledged their departure.

But it seemed that this statement had caused Maria to jerk out of Georg's arms. She suddenly stiffened and pulled away from his embrace. Upon lifting her gaze so her eyes could meet his, he saw nothing but pain. But what Maria did next both surprised and hurt him. She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him away.

"Please," she pleaded in a broken voice and turned away, wrapping her arms instinctively around her stomach whilst covering herself with the duvet cover. Curling into the similar position she did whenever she felt hurt or pain, Georg realised that his presence was no longer wanted.

He made to reach out; gently reassure her, but something stopped him. A thick and blinding air of tension caused his hand to falter in its approach and pull away to rest beside his body once more. Georg sighed, and then watched as the Jack Russell once again nestled itself into Maria's side.

For a moment, he envied the dog. But then he thought better of himself, and merely rose from his seated position on the bed and walked towards the door. He knew Maria would need some time alone, and if he gave that to her now, he came to the conclusion that she would be willing to accept his comfort sooner.

Stepping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him, he climbed down the stairs and joined his seven children and the old couple in the living area beside the fire. His children, judging by their expressions, were still extremely worried about their mother.

So Georg, despite the knowledge that he had just been given, smiled at his children. He sat himself between Brigitta and Marta on one of the more larger furnished seats in the room, and proceeded in wrapping his arms around them. It was not just their comfort that he wished to aid, but he also sought to find some of his own. As he pulled two of his daughters closer into his frame, he almost felt an immediate surge of comfort.

"Father?"

Georg turned to Gretl, who was sat on Liesl's lap.

"Father, will Mother be all right?"

Georg could tell that his youngest daughter's voice was close to breaking, the only reason being from tears. Fighting back his own, he attempted to reply to his youngest child, and address the rest of his children, the news.

"I believe your Mother will be just fine," this news brought relieved faces to all of his children, and he felt Brigitta and Marta nestle closer to him. "But she is in pain right now, and you'll need to be patient with her. She needs rest right now, and she may wish to be alone."

The older children understood what their Father was inferring, and they all nodded. It was Liesl, being the eldest, that spoke up first. "We understand, Father. We all understand."

Her final statement was met by a series of nods and murmurs, six in fact.

Georg smiled, but did not break the silence. It was only Gretl's yawn a few minutes later that brought to an end the lapse of silence. "I think it's time we all had some sleep."

Georg was met with further murmurs in response, all agreeing with his statement.

Of the one bedroom that was left, Rosmarie announced that at least three of the children would be able to sleep there. The room had belonged to her two daughters when they were younger and lived here, and had two twin beds and a large seat that could easily be slept on. It was decided that Marta and Gretl would sleep in the beds, and Brigitta on the furnished seat. But upon entering the room, and seeing that the two youngest children could quite easily sleep together in one of the beds, it was decided that Brigitta would take the other, and Kurt would have the seat. He had protested, being the growing boy that he was, and had told Louisa or Liesl that they could have it, but they had both declined. One look at their brother's tired eyes and they could not have accepted.

Hans and Rosmarie soon managed to find space for the two eldest girls on the largest of the chairs in their living area. The girls easily fitted on together, and it was comfortable enough for them not to be waking up through the night. Fredrich then exclaimed that he would be more than all right sleeping on the floor, and after much deliberation Rosmarie finally conceded and brought him quite a few pillows and a blanket.

After settling all the children to sleep, the three adults left and walked into another room of the house, one which Georg immediately found comforting. It was Hans' study. Rosmarie prepared them all more hot drinks, and brought them through whilst the men had settled themselves into a seat. She sat beside her husband instantly.

"I must thank you again," began Georg, taking a long sip of the scalding liquid.

"Please," interrupted Hans and Rosmarie together. Husband and wife both looked at each and smiled at their tendencies to speak at the same time, before Hans decided he would continue. He explained that no prolonged thank yous would be necessary, and that it would have been inhumane of them to turn away from the family at this time.

Georg then voiced his concerns about the doctor and their story.

"Oh, that," smiled Hans and Rosmarie to themselves. It was Rosmarie who spoke this time. "We explained to him that you were friends staying here for a week. And when Maria arrived in so much pain, we called him out straight away."

At the mention of Maria, Georg looked longingly up at the ceiling, imagining her upstairs. He longed to go to her and comfort her.

Rosmarie noticed this look.

"Go to her."

"She doesn't want me there."

Georg surprised himself at how easily he could speak with these two strangers. He had never been this adept at talking with people before, and found it strange how, in these circumstances, he was finally managing.

"She does. Or at least, she _will_."

Georg looked up at the older woman.

"She will need time alone, and so will you. But grief can weave and bring people together in ways that happiness could never amount to. The bonds you will make during times like this will only make your relationship stronger."

It seemed that, subconsciously, Rosmarie's hand had moved to take hold of Hans'. Both rubbed soothing circles on the back of their partner's hand, and a look of momentary ease passed over them. As the candle light of the room flickered slowly, Georg glanced across at the old couple, and for the first time since learning about the miscarriage, he found that something inside him was saying that there would always be hope.

He vaguely recalled the older couple bidding him goodnight, to which he had responded by saying he would just sit here for a while longer. Georg sat there for much longer, and only as the early hours of the morning went by did he finally concede to his growing fatigue and rest his eyes.

* * *

**Another note: **Please do let me know what you think, whether I'm handling this right or whether I could be going in a different direction. Review, or send me a message! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **This chapter was hard, and I don't like it but I didn't want to leave you all much longer without an update. Thank you for all the response for the last chapter. Any medical blips I've made so far, I apologise for but hope you will still enjoy the story despite them. Admittedly, that was not the main focus and I probably didn't look into it as much as I could have done. Anyway, I hope you think this chapter is OK.  
**Rating: **T  
**Words: **1,947

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

Rosmarie nudged open the bedroom door carefully the next morning, a small tray balanced on one of her hands. Upon entering the room, Rosmarie smiled sympathetically at Maria as she slept contently; her breathing even, which was proven with the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Placing the tray down on the small, wooden bedside table that her husband had crafted for their son when he had inhabited this room, Rosmarie perched on the side of the bed and moved to awaken Maria slowly.

Shaking her shoulder gently, Maria soon stirred. It became clear as soon as she opened her eyes that she was unaware of her surroundings, and for the few moments until Rosmarie began to explain and remind her of everything that had happened the previous day, there was panic in her eyes.

"Maria," reassured Rosmarie gently. "You're at the farmhouse, your husband and children are asleep…" The old woman continued to describe their current situation, and it was clear that the painful memories were beginning to cause Maria's eyes to prickle with tears. But Maria did nought to stop them falling, merely letting the adamant tears cascade down her cheeks silently. "The Doctor left you this," Rosmarie motioned towards the tray beside the bed, upon which was a variety of medicine that would help Maria through the physical pains that may still remain.

But the only physical pain that was left upon Maria's frame was fatigue. Fatigue from climbing the mountains, and fatigue from the terrible series of events that had been bestowed upon the von Trapps. Maria felt physically drained, but the pains and cramps she had initially felt had all gone.

"He said it should help, and anything you need please don't hesitate to ask."

By this time Maria had shifted to sit beneath the duvet covers, and to her surprise the small dog surfaced from beneath. Poking out its head he peered at Maria inquisitively, tilting its head to one side with wide eyes and open ears.

"That's Ralph," Rosmarie explained as she noticed Maria's confused expression. "I'm sorry, he seems to have formed quite an attachment to you–"

Rosmarie stopped as she noticed Maria crying even more. She was stroking the dog's soft fur as the tears freely fell. "I don't know what to do," admitted Maria timidly.

The older woman could not help but become quite confused at her admittance, and therefore edged closer to Maria and gently took her hand. Her thumb rubbed the back of her hand, tracing in soothing circles that she hoped would reassure the younger woman and give her the strength to speak.

It seemed that her touch, despite Maria's attempt to stifle a gasp, merely caused more tears to fall. She struggled to breath evenly, overwhelmed with the shear intensity of her emotions, and convulsively she began to shake.

"What do I do?" Maria spoke between breathless gasps. She sniffled, taking her spare hand away from the dog and attempting to wipe her tears away. Or at least prevent the velocity of the downfall. Her hands were still shaking slightly, but after a few moments she managed to still them.

"You're not expected– Nothing is expected of you, Maria," Rosmarie reassured her gently.

Maria then glanced up at the old woman, her eyes opening a little wider as she looked at her closely. For a reason she could not decipher, Maria felt she could trust this woman with just about anything. Her face, defined with its wrinkles and indescribable warmth, shone and radiated with care in its most sincere of forms. There was a type of motherly warmth that edged the tone of her voice, and brought new depth to her eyes. She was reminded of the Reverend Mother, and all the times she had comforted Maria in her earlier years when something was clearly shadowing her thoughts.

With this new confidence, Maria spoke, "I want him to understand how I feel. But how can I, when I don't even know? I try and think of the words to say, to explain, but all I can do is cry."

The last few words were all spoken with venom, almost as though Maria was ashamed of her tears and thought of them as inadequate. Rosmarie noticed this, and tightened her grip on Maria's hand. "It will take plenty of time, and crying is nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. You would feel worse if you hadn't cried."

"But the children, I'm supposed to be strong–"

"You are," Rosmarie stated adamantly. "I can see you are. They're still one of the first things on your mind, even after everything you have been through…" Rosmarie trailed off, careful not to approach the subject too quickly. But it seemed that Maria's thoughts had already travelled back to yesterday.

"Why did this happen to us?" she asked, her voice breaking. "What did we do?"

"Neither of you did anything," spoke Rosmarie, her tone seemingly allowing no room for alternative perceptions. "This is just one of those unfortunate–"

"But surely, if I'd known before we–" Maria stopped suddenly, looking at Rosmarie and unsure as to whether her husband wanted them to know. She looked back down at her lap. "I should have known."

"The Doctor explained you were still in the very early stages, there was no way you could have known… Maria, please don't blame yourself."

Rosmarie squeezed her hand comfortingly, and for a few moments the room was silent. As the old woman reached across for the medicine the doctor had left, she then gave it to Maria who, hesitantly, took it. Some of her movements had proceeded in Maria shifting, and now a plain, silver necklace with a religious cross on it appeared around her neck from beneath the clothes she wore – it had been a gift from Georg around a week into their engagement. Maria had refused the gift to begin with, only just becoming accustomed to her engagement ring, even if it was of a more simple design than others, and all of the extravagant clothes her fiancé had been providing her with.

Her insistence had caused Georg to drop the issue, and he had placed the necklace back into the jewellery box. But, as the train had rattled through the night on their way to Paris, he had presented the box to her again; this time giving her no option but to accept, saying it was his wedding present to her. She had then smiled mischievously and annoyingly at her tenacious husband, and had allowed him to clasp it around her neck; the brief contact of his fingers on her neck had caused both of them to inhale sharply.

Rosmarie noticed the necklace, and assumed that Maria was a religious woman.

"You know God has a plan for all of us," she spoke softly, causing Maria's attention to focus directly on her. She had jerked her head upwards, and somehow found even more respect for the old woman. "Even losing your baby. He must have something else planned, maybe it was not the right time," she suggested.

This seemed to cause something to break inside Maria. She gulped, and then seconds later she had collapsed into Rosmarie's arms, sobbing fiercely. The older woman knew it may take longer for husband and wife to reconcile, and that it would take time for Maria to find the ability to form the right words and explain how she really felt. But Rosmarie knew, from experience, that a start had been made.

Maria allowing herself to cry on another person's shoulder was a start. And to talk about what had happened and even consider why it might have happened was a start.

* * *

The day passed in a blur for the whole von Trapp family. Georg insisted that the children help with tasks around the house, but the old couple initially refused. It was then decided that tomorrow, once all of the children began to feel reassured about the situation, they would help around the farm.

All of the children worried about their mother, because she had kept herself away in her room all through the day. None of them were accustomed to their mother's distance, and for the two youngest children it caused them to become even more worried. It took the comforting embraces and reassuring words of their older siblings to ease their minds.

Their father had joined them eventually. He had promised himself not long ago that he would never allow himself to treat his children the same way he did when their biological mother had died. Therefore, despite everything that had happened, he sat on the sofa beside Marta and pulled her onto his lap. The seven–year–old appreciated the comfort, and so did the rest of the von Trapp children, even if they only watched on affectionately. It was times like this that they knew their father was back with them…

It was mid–afternoon, when Rosmarie had made all of them hot drinks, that Georg finally found the courage to visit his wife. He knew she needed her own privacy during this time, but he scorned himself for his actions, or lack of, the previous night.

Rosmarie handed him two drinks with a reassuring smile. Wordlessly, she told him to go. It worked, for Georg was then climbing the stairs with one drink in either hand, and once he reached the door, waited only for a few moments before pushing it gently open.

The scene which caught his eye as he entered the room almost caused him to turn back around. Not from anger, but from all of the overwhelming emotions he felt.

Maria was laying straight on the bed, with the small Jack Russell beside her, still having refused to leave her side but for calls of nature and his regular meals. From her sniffles that he often heard, and also her murmuring that was too quiet, or indecipherable, he assumed she was talking to the dog. He was positively certain that her quiet murmuring would not be coherent, but that even the notion of talking to another being was comforting to his wife.

Georg stood, watching his wife for a few moments, before his presence in the room was sensed and she turned.

Maria seemed surprised to see him, her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but instead of the pain and anguish he saw the previous night, now he saw sorrow and the beginning of a journey to somewhere better. Neither husband nor wife knew where somewhere would be, but they both already knew that once they got there – once they overcame the obstacles placed before them – it would be beautiful, and worth the wait.

Georg stepped forward into the bedroom, closing the door behind him skilfully, since he still had both mugs in his hands. He placed them both down on the bedside table, and Maria silently gave her thanks.

He nervously stood on the spot, unsure as to what he should do.

Eventually, after he had swallowed nervously, he spoke as clearly as he could.

"I'll be here to listen, when you want to talk to me. I know it will take time, but I'll wait." Georg could then not stop himself from perching himself on the side of the bed. He reached out for his wife's hand, gently taking hold of it and she brought her tear–stricken eyes to meet his.

They were riddled with pain, but despite all of the devastating forces surrounding them, Maria managed to speak.

"Thank you," she murmured in a soft, broken voice before reclining back across the bed as Georg rose once more and left the bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Thank you for the response, hope you all like this chapter and the flashback. Thanks to som04 for all the help you've given me. Please let me know what you think to this!  
**Words: **1,984  
**Rating: **T

**_Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb_**

As the next couple of days passed, it became clear to the whole household that Maria and Georg had begun distancing themselves. Georg would avoid heading upstairs to sleep until as late as possible, and even then he would sometimes just stay in Hans' study and fall asleep in the big, old chair. The wall, lined with books on one side and the rustic feel to the room seemed to appeal to Georg, and Hans assumed that it would hold a resemblance to a room he used to reside in. Georg would sit at night, a glass of whiskey or gin in his hand, staring pensively at the floor, or the panelled walls and floor.

He appreciated that Maria would need time to herself, and also that he, himself, would need moments alone to digest what had happened in the past few days. The weeks he had spent with his wife in Paris on their honeymoon had been ultimately perfect. They had visited the famous Eiffel Tower, they had taken a boat trip on the Seine, he had taken Maria to The Louvre to see all of the magnificent pieces of art. Every single visit to these places, all of which he had visited before, he saw with a new perspective as he sat beside his wife. He had laughed at Maria's admiration of the Eiffel Tower, and her longing and anticipation to climb all the way to the top. Whereas he had found himself out of breath, he admired his wife's youth and energy, and thanked the powers that be that she had chosen him. Their visit to The Louvre had been an unforgettable experience, and Maria had worn his favourite blue dress as they wandered around the vast building. The image in his mind of Maria wandering through the echoing halls, clad in a simple blue dress and waving a fan to keep her cool was one he would never forget. But their trip along the river Seine had been, and would always be, the most poignant memory of their honeymoon together… Well, except the love–making in their room.

_Maria surprised him as they sat together, having hired a boat for the two of them, with a typical French man steering the boat, wearing the customary clothes and having the trade–mark moustache. They had emerged from underneath the shadows of a bridge and into the sunlight, when Maria pulled something from her pocket. She held it in the palm of her hand, and as the rays of sunlight reflected off the metal object, Georg recognised it instantly. His stomach had clenched, unsure as for the reasons to its sudden appearance._

_Georg looked up towards his wife._

"_Maria?" He asked, the confusion clear, laced in his tone of voice._

"_You gave this to me some time ago, and now I'm giving it back," she explained plainly. She then proceeded in placing the whistle into his hand, the memories flooding back to her of their first meeting. She had fallen in love with him at that moment, but although she knew he was a changed man now, Maria felt he would have appreciated being rid of the damned object at last. It could potentially evoke harsh memories for him; ones that he may have been eager not to revisit._

"_Why?" He questioned, not fully understanding her._

_Their eyes then met in a long spell. The connection did not break for quite a few minutes – or it could have been longer, neither could decipher – and once their spell had broken, Georg knew why his wife had given him the whistle. It seemed that, between them, conversations could take place without a word being uttered._

_He then flexed his fingers, his grasp tightening on the whistle before he raised his arm, about to throw the object out into the river._

_However, someone stopped him. "Monsieur," came the voice of the boatman, causing Georg to turn, surprised. He had remained silent until now. He then voiced his complaints about throwing objects into the water in French, leaving Maria unintentionally secluded from the conversation between the two men. _

_Georg scowled as he turned back around to face his new wife, and Maria recognised the signs on his face. She guessed what had been said, filling in the blanks and showing her own displeasure as her eyes darkened and fell to the floor of the wooden boat._

_But then, her new husband did something to surprise her. Smirking at her wistfully, he waited for another few moments, sensing that the boatman may still be watching them. Maria confirmed his suspicions, for she was sitting opposite him on one of the seats, and happened to be facing the boatman. Stifling her laughter and the mischievous smile that was beginning to pry at the corners of her lips, she gave him the nod when the boatman had turned, and Georg extended his arm in a sideways motion and threw the whistle into the river._

_Maria could hardly prevent her laughter now. So she leant forward and affectionately kissed her husband. He responded, moving his lips against her own as his hand took hold of hers. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. Husband and wife kept their kiss tender because of their surroundings, far from the passionate kisses they would share when they were alone…_

Georg sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Another sip of whiskey burned his throat, but the strong feeling was quite a relief. As the night progressed, he seemed to become further engrossed in the panels that decorated the room. There was a distinct pattern to them, but that was not the reason for him being so interested. It was a fixed pattern, nothing changed. Unlike his life at the moment that continued to change and throw more obstacles he was obliged to leap over.

But one more sip of his strong drink caused Georg to place the glass down on the table as realisation dawned on him. With no more thoughts to be dwelled upon, Georg rose from the chair and left through the door, and the sight of three of his children sleeping in the next room filled his heart with affection.

As he walked further into the living area where his children slept peacefully, he settled himself down beside Fredrich on the floor. He leant back against one of the chairs beside his son's feet. To his left, his two oldest daughters slept together and to the right the fire still burnt, although its initial glory had faded as the night had crawled. He watched how Liesl and Louisa fitted perfectly on the sofa together, and realised the connection they must have built over the years where he had been despondent and distanced from his children.

His eyes darkened as he remembered those years. But whenever his thoughts did dwell on those years, then came the day Maria had arrived at the villa, clad in the most horrid of dresses that even the poor had turned down. Once he had left the unruly governess with his children, he had thought once again about _that _dress and had laughed to himself. Certainly, her choice of dresses had improved from that stage, and so had the life in the household. Maria had changed everything, and although she blushed and refused to accept his description of her, he knew that she was their saviour.

Her faith, compassion and adoration for all around her were all just few of the endearing qualities his wife possessed. Her love and appreciation of nature was important to her, and its importance to him had grown as well. He understood her need to spend days on her mountain, and to sing, and to climb trees, and to go on bike rides and boat rides and to play a simple game of tag in the garden. He understood it to be her way of appreciating all that God had given her, and her never–ending love brought constant faith to both himself and the children during testing times.

Thinking of his wife, Georg lifted his head and stared longingly to the ceiling. He imagined Maria sleeping now, without him. Although he knew she needed time and space, it still did nought to prevent his longing to be with her; to comfort her.

A presence in the corner of the room by the stairs watched this scene, however. Rosmarie, after a few moments of tenderly watching Georg after coming down for a glass of water, proceeded to climb back up the stairs slowly. She joined her husband in their bedroom. He was still awake, reading a selected book from their collection downstairs. He did not place the book down as soon as his wife entered their bedroom, but as she remained silent once she joined him on the bed – which was unusual for her – he dropped the book on the duvet and turned to her.

"What's on your mind?" he asked her tenderly.

After a few moments of silence, Rosmarie spoke up. "It's just so hard to watch them like this."

"It's going to be hard for them," agreed Hans, nodding sadly.

Rosmarie looked across at him sadly. She sighed too, and then continued to speak. "I don't think he knows what to do. He's giving her space, but he's suffering too."

"He will be," Hans admitted. He picked up his reading book and marked the page, placing it on his bedside table before turning back to face his wife. He assumed there was more she wanted to say.

"Do you think you could speak with him?" His wife suddenly asked.

The question surprised him. He was not expecting it, and he began to stutter before he could give a solid, coherent answer. "I could try, but it will only work if he wants to talk to me."

"Even if it's just to let out his frustration," pleaded Rosmarie. "He must be frustrated at the moment, and he will need to talk to someone. You know how important that is," she added.

"I know, I know," Hans replied defensively, holding up his hands. His mind went back to when he could compare their experiences to now. His wife was right, and although he knew cracking Georg's façade would be difficult, he had to attempt it at least. Any advancement may cause Georg to speak with someone.

In response to his wife's plea, Hans leant across and wrapped an arm around his wife. He kissed her temple, and then pulled her down gently to lie comfortably in his arms. He nodded, and explained that he would approach Georg over the next few days about everything that had happened.

Maria, meanwhile, despite the rest of the household, was not asleep.

Her eyes were painful from both tears and fatigue. She sniffled as she burrowed herself further beneath the sheets, one arm beneath the pillow and the other across the small dog, casually stroking its soft fur. Her sniffles were a sign that sleep would probably evade her once again tonight, and the hot drink sat on the bedside table remained untouched from earlier that day.

Maria spoke to Ralph as his eyes fluttered closed – he was close to falling asleep, but any movement or sign would have him open his eyes. Her sentences went from an incoherent mess to humble apologies, all towards her unborn child. As another tear slipped down her cheek, she subconsciously moved closer to the dog, the silence giving her the ability to hear its soft breathing.

Eventually, some hours later in the early morning, Maria finally succumbed to her tiredness and closed her eyes, drifting into a light sleep. But she would often wake and be disturbed, dreams and memories plagued her mind even whilst asleep, and Maria sensed it would take some time before her sleeping at night was without interruption.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Thank you for all the feedback. I can promise you a happy ending, I'll tell you that now. I love this pairing far too much to keep them unhappy forever. But it will be a long road before then.  
**Disclaimer: **I will never own The Sound of Music, but I can keep hoping.

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

Rosmarie entered into the living room with an array of cold drinks and biscuits for the gathering of seven children. The sight which greeted her almost broke her heart, because she saw that the youngest of the children was sat in the lap of the oldest girl. The rest were gathered on the chairs, one of the girls nestled into the huge armchair with a copy of _Bleak House_ that she had let the girl pick from the book shelf. Brigitta, she recalled her name was, and the old woman could not help but smile as she burrowed her head into the book, seemingly finding the comfort in fiction that she could not in reality.

Placing the tray down on the wooden table in the centre of the chairs, the old woman spoke up eventually, "Well, what do we have here?"

All of the children looked up at her, all except for Brigitta. She seemed too immersed in the book, and Rosmarie could see her anguish and pain as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She could tell that the girl was still worrying about their current situation, especially her mother.

Rosmarie had often wondered about the children's biological mother, she could tell that Maria was too young to have given birth to all seven of the children. When Georg had told her one night in Hans' study, she had been touched by the strength of the family through the difficult times they had clearly experienced. The respect she had for all of the family had risen, for the two parents and the seven children that were all coping with the drastic changes in their life magnificently.

Rosmarie made eye contact with Liesl, and her silence told the old woman that none of the children knew what to do. All they could do was sit, do the tasks they were asked to and wait for their father to join them. Georg, at this moment in time, had gone down to the small, local town with her husband to collect groceries and supplies. Georg had also insisted that he find a Swiss bank and withdraw some money to help with the supplies, and although the old couple had initially declined, he had reasoned with them that feeding an extra nine mouths was an unfair burden. The old couple had stressed that it was not a burden, but nonetheless had accepted Georg's offer.

Hans and Georg had been gone since seven o'clock that morning, the former aware of the time it would take for them to reach the local town. Since the pair lived so close to the border, their travelling would often take time. But they did not do it often, and most of the time would have their supplies delivered by a local boy. However, their concerns had risen once their nine guests had arrived, and they had all come to the agreement that collecting the supplies personally would amount to less suspicion.

Georg had not spoken to Hans and Rosmarie of their reasoning for climbing the border into Switzerland, but the pair could only assume that it was for political reasons. Because of that, they had decided to be as subtle as possible when the family were staying with them.

As Rosmarie watched the children intently, she came up with a sudden conclusion to their worries. "How about I pack you all some lunch, and you go for a walk today? It'll do you all good to get out of the house."

Liesl, who could sense that a day out for her siblings would perhaps do them a lot of good, agreed with Rosmarie and nodded. "Yes, that would be a good idea."

Rosmarie smiled. "Come with me, dear. We'll pack some food together for you all."

At that moment, a sound from the stairs resulted in eight pairs of eyes staring intently in that direction. Maria came walking down the stairs, still quite pale from her days in bed. She did feel better for having left the bedroom for reasons other than the bathroom, and as soon as she saw the children a small smile crept onto her lips.

Brigitta was the first to be out of her seat, flinging the book aside and crossing the room towards her mother. However, she stopped only a few feet away from Maria, worried about embracing her as tightly as she would usually in her current state. Maria, however, widened her smile as far as it would go and opened her arms to Brigitta. Carefully, Brigitta wrapped her arms around her mother, burying her own head into her chest. She momentarily revelled in the warmth her mother's embrace provided, before her other siblings soon rushed over to be hugged by their mother.

As soon as Maria had embraced all seven of her children, she looked around the room inquisitively, but also apprehensively to see if her husband was here. Louisa answered for her. "Father went into town with Hans for supplies."

Maria murmured an "Oh," before turning to Rosmarie. "I thought I would come down and help…"

"Oh my dear, you don't have to."

"Please, I want to," Maria argued lightly.

"Mother, we're going to go on a picnic! Could you come with us?" Gretl asked, her arms still wrapped around her mother's stomach.

Maria looked down at her daughter affectionately, and rubbed her head of hair with one hand. "Not today, darling."

Maria knew she was still tired. She had barely got any sleep in the past couple of days, and her mind was still racing as she attempted to form the words that would explain her feelings. Raising a hand to her head, feeling another headache beginning to form, she smiled at the rest of her children.

Rosmarie noticed how tired Maria looked, and instantly took charge of the situation. She took hold of Maria's arm, leading her through to the kitchen. "Come with me, my dear. Children, I'll have your lunch prepared soon. There are drinks and biscuits on the table," she announced.

The children watched as their mother and Rosmarie disappeared into the kitchen. They both took the seats they had been taking before after they had picked up a glass each and taken a biscuit.

"I hope mother is better soon," murmured Marta as she snuggled herself into Fredrich's side. He wrapped an arm around her comfortingly, hoping to do the job his father usually did when he was here.

"She will be soon, Marta. We just have to give her time," Fredrich reasoned, pulling his sister even closer.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Rosmarie had persuaded Maria to sit down at the kitchen table and rest. Maria had argued her case at first, but after one stern look from Rosmarie, she had sat down, knowing that she could see everything and probably knew that she was suffering from a headache.

"Here," Rosmarie offered her a glass of water and some of the medicine the doctor had left. "It should help."

"Thank you," she murmured, taking the water and medicine. Her hands were still shaking a little, and Rosmarie placed her hand across her shaking one. Maria looked up now, and gave the old woman a weak smile. "Please, what can I do to help?"

Rosmarie sighed, it was clear that Maria would not give up. In the end, she conceded and handed Maria half a loaf of bread to make sandwiches for the children's picnic. Maria got to work straight away, cutting the sandwiches accordingly depending on each of her children. She knew that Marta loved her sandwiches to be cut into small triangles, and that Brigitta hated crusts, Gretl loved hers to be cut in squares, and Kurt liked his to just be cut in half. He always wanted to eat them as quickly as possible, and if he could have it whole, Maria believed that he would. The rest of the children did not seem to care how their sandwiches were, only Maria was careful with the ingredients. Louisa hated lots of butter in her sandwiches, Fredrich could not stand tomatoes and Liesl could not tolerate cheese. Maria laughed at all their habits as she continued in her small, but helpful, task.

Once the picnic was prepared, Maria and Rosmarie called the children through to take the basket. All of them rushed through into the kitchen, their intentions to pick up the basket and to see their mother. She smiled faintly at them all.

"Here you go," she handed the basket to Fredrich, giving him an appreciative look after remembering all he had done for her on the mountain.

He seemed a little awkward as he smiled back, the events on the mountain clearly still on his mind. But he still took the basket with his small smile, and then left the kitchen with his siblings as they all headed out for their walk.

Maria and Rosmarie were left in the kitchen. The older woman could clearly see that something was on her mind, there was a darkness shadowing in her eyes and she seemed to have paled a little more than before.

"Maria…" she voiced uncertainly, ready to take her to bed when she needed to.

Maria would not admit it, but during the little sleep she did get, she had been dreaming about the mountain. It frightened her to remember how she had relied on both Fredrich, and even Gretl at some stages, to even walk properly. In this dream darkness would then arrive, and she would fall, unable to visualise her family. She would then be left alone on the mountain, in pain and vulnerable.

Rosmarie noticed tears falling down her cheeks, and she let out a soft sigh. "Come on," she urged gently, taking hold of Maria and guiding her out of the kitchen and upstairs into the bedroom. She was glad that Maria offered no protest, and as soon as she collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion finally overwhelmed and took the better of her, and she fell into a much needed sleep.

* * *

The children were walking for a good half an hour before they found a spot to set up their picnic. Their area was a nice space, the grass was comfortable to sit on and there were a few trees shading where they sat, as well as some a fair distance away. As soon as they all decided that this would be their spot, Liesl brought out the rug and laid it down on the grass, while Fredrich dropped the heavy basket onto it.

"How about a game with the ball we found?" suggested Fredrich, snatching the ball from Kurt.

All of the children shrugged, agreeing to play but with a lacklustre attitude.

They played for around ten minutes before they all decided that none of them were having fun. The seven children then walked across to the rug and sat down. It was clear that, although they had spent many times on the mountain with Maria, this was different and certainly not as good.

Marta was lying flat on her stomach, picking at the grass and murmuring to herself. "Raindrops on roses, and, whiskers on kittens…" she trailed off, clearly having no energy to sing the song.

"Marta, it won't work. It never does when mother isn't singing with us," reasoned Brigitta calmly, going over to sit beside her sister.

"Can't we try?" Gretl asked, having sat beside Liesl and Kurt.

"What's the point?" Louisa shouted suddenly, flailing her arms in the air. "We all know it won't work!"

With that, Louisa walked off to the collection of nearby trees, voicing to her siblings that she wanted to be alone. Reaching the closest tree, Louisa climbed it skilfully and perched herself on one of the higher branches. It was then that she allowed a tear to fall down her cheek, and once one had fell so did a dozen more. Wiping them away with her hand became futile, so Louisa just continued to cry to herself, looking out at the landscape from her heightened position.

She could not describe her feelings, it was something she had never been able to do. The distance her father had put between the children and himself during the years after their mother's death had torn Louisa. She had been unbelievably close to her father, closer than she had been to her mother. Louisa had regretted not trying to form a closer relationship with her mother once she had died, but at that age she simply did not like the same things. Louisa had preferred scouring for bugs, climbing trees and going swimming, things which her father would do with her.

While regretting the relationship with her mother, she had then lost her father too. After their reconciliation, Louisa had slowly formed that bond once more. She had finally let Maria in too after weeks of her trying. Then she had left for the abbey, and although she had apologised and the children had become close with her again, Louisa never got to reveal the insecurities she had. She realised she needed to talk with her new mother.

Without realising she was doing so, Louisa began to murmur the song her mother had taught them about her favourite things.

"When the dog bites," she murmured, her voice breaking as stubborn tears fell from her eyes. "When the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad…" Louisa suddenly trailed off again, overwhelmed with the tears she had been keeping for so long. She was glad to be away from her siblings at the moment, so she could cry on her own and try to gather her thoughts.

Louisa remained there for a while, humming along to the song and eventually drying her tears, until Kurt eventually called to her:

"Louisa! Come on, we're going back!"

Louisa jumped down from one of the lower branches once she had climbed down safely, and ran to join the rest of her siblings.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Thank you for all of the response. And thank you _Big Eyes KS _for your suggestions and helpful comments, I appreciate them.

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

Georg began to tap on the desk, frustrated. His mind wandered onto the events of the past week, and as he listened to the sounds of his children drifting through into the study, he thought about them too. It was evident in their daily activities and behaviour that the circumstances were beginning to affect them – not only having had to leave their home, their country, but also the condition their mother was still in. Georg absently smiled as he acknowledged the progress Maria was beginning to make with the children again. She had come downstairs for the past couple of days and spent some time with the children, talking to them as she used to before the miscarriage, and also insisted on helping Rosmarie in the kitchen. Of course, the old woman had limited her work, but he could see that Maria was pleased to have something to do.

But he was frustrated. Frustrated that the relationship between Maria and himself had taken such a turn, and that she found it difficult to approach him, let alone speak with him about how she felt. Georg knew it would take time, but accepting and living with that fact was still difficult.

The dark and gloomy persona was beginning to irritate Georg – ever since he had found love with Maria again, he had found no reason to feel so down – so he decided to get up, and left the study with all intentions of heading outside. Whilst walking through the living room, his eyes rested on five of his seven children, and his wife who was holding Gretl in her lap and pointing something to her in a story book.

He found himself watching her, how the corners of her lips rose slightly when in the presence of their children. Georg also found himself revisiting memories of his past, and more specifically his late wife. He remembered the difference in circumstances when Agathe had suffered from two, unfortunate miscarriages. Her first pregnancy, before Liesl, had resulted in a miscarriage, and the experience had left her quite isolated from her husband. The second, a year after she had given birth to Brigitta, had also been painful, but also somewhat different. With their five children around her, she seemed to have been able to seek the comfort in them that she had not been able to before. He noticed how Maria seemed to be doing this now. He was happy that she could find some comfort during these times, even if it was not from him.

It was Brigitta who acknowledged him first.

The sounds caused Maria to look up from the book she was helping Gretl to read, and as their eyes met she gave her husband a small smile.

Georg's heart swelled, and he smiled back.

"Are the boys outside?" He asked, addressing Maria, even though it was his daughters who responded.

"Yes, Father," answered Gretl, turning in her mother's lap.

Georg gave them all a nod in gratitude, looked once more in Maria's direction, and then headed outside to his sons.

They were working on the farm again, and Georg felt proud that his two sons were adamant to help with all the work. His daughters would assist in any way they could with the housekeeping, although Louisa often found herself outside and helping with the more physical labour. He spotted three figures over by the barn, and therefore headed across. He was met by Fredrich, Kurt and Hans, who were all playing their part in fixing part of the fence that held some of the animals.

"Father!" he heard Kurt exclaim excitedly. "Don't you think we're doing a good job?"

Georg smiled as he approached them, and nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely, very good work, Kurt." He complimented his youngest son, and then looked across at Fredrich. He noticed that his eldest son had not turned when he approached, and was instead completely focused on his job. "And you, Fredrich. It looks very impressive."

Fredrich turned now, and thanked his Father with the most sincere of looks in his eyes.

"Now, is there anything I can do?"

This time it was Hans to speak up, "Well, you could help Fredrich fix these last few nails. That should make the fence sturdy enough," Hans ratted the fence with his hand just to make sure. "Kurt and I were going to fetch some more nails to secure the other side." Hans pointed to the area he was speaking about. The fence had fallen the other night after some rather horrendous wind and rain.

Georg nodded in response, and as his youngest son and Hans headed back towards the house, he got to work with Fredrich.

As Georg held the nail in place, Fredrich began to hammer it in. After they had done another three, a shake of the fence from Georg resulted in them deciding it was secure.

"You've all done a good job," complimented Georg, turning to face his son.

Fredrich looked up sheepishly, and shrugged his shoulders.

Georg suddenly realised the amount of work Fredrich had done in the past week. He also remembered how much help he had been before they found the farmhouse. It was not only his height, the new roughness of his hands or the developing muscles in his arms that showed he was turning into a man, but also the sincere look in his eyes. Fredrich was becoming a strong young man, and Georg realised he had not spoken to his son since they had climbed the mountain to the safety of Switzerland.

"You're turning into a fine, young man, Fredrich," Georg summoned the courage to speak. As with Liesl, the thought of his son growing up was a daunting prospect.

"Thank you, Sir."

"I never thanked you for all the support you have been giving us. I know I speak for your Mother too when I say thank you."

"I couldn't let anything happen to Mother–" Fredrich faltered, his eyes swimming with painful memories. "After what happened to– I mean…"

He was stopped this time as his Father pulled him into a strong embrace. It was the first in a while, they had taken to shaking hands more often than not. But this time both needed some reassurance, and Georg wanted to show just how grateful he was.

"Your Mother is going to be all right," Georg answered the questions that were on Fredrich's mind. He pulled away from his son almost reluctantly, but he could see Kurt and Hans returning, and he did not want to embarrass his oldest son. "Remember the time we had our argument, after you all fell into the lake?"

Fredrich laughed, nodding.

"You know she's far too strong for anything to get the better of her. She just needs time."

Fredrich suddenly looked down, and then back up with a sombre look across his face. "Is it the same as what happened to Mother?" He looked at Georg's slightly confused expression, and therefore explained himself. "Our birth mother."

Georg suddenly realised what Fredrich was asking. He was amazed that Fredrich would remember it, he had been young at the time. But, as he remembered from his own childhood, children can sense when something happens, they could pick up on different moods and feelings. Agathe had been six–months–pregnant when she had lost the baby, so the sudden circumstances perhaps would have been one that his oldest children could remember.

"Yes," Georg confirmed sadly. He then admitted to his son what he had not been able to say to anyone else thus far, "Your mother lost a baby."

Fredrich nodded sadly, carefully placing a hand on his father's shoulder.

Georg appreciated the touch, his heart swelled with pride, but before he could thank his son verbally, the other two men had joined them with more provisions for fixing the fence. Father and son shared a few quiet glances whilst completing their task, both feeling as though a weight had been lifted from their chests after they had spoken together.

* * *

Doctor Schmidt had left a couple of hours ago, having arrived at the farmhouse to provide Maria with a regular check up. He was very pleased with her physical progress, especially that she had been out of bed on occasions and had involved herself with simple tasks around the house. But he knew that the mental scars were still there: fresh, open wounds that had yet to be closed. The doctor had noticed that, although Maria and her husband had barely spoken a word to each other as he examined and spoke to her, they both held hands. He knew it was a positive step, even if Maria had not been ready to speak to her husband.

He had told Maria that her physical problems had gone, and although she still seemed tired, it should become easier. Doctor Schmidt had then left, telling them to call him if they were to need him again.

Georg smiled as he sat in Hans' study that night. He had remained by Maria's side until she had fallen asleep, and she had felt comfortable with him holding her hand for the entire duration. Only when he was convinced that she was asleep – he had waited at least fifteen minutes, listening to the sounds of her regular breathing – he went downstairs to join his children. With the new smile on his face, his children also seemed to become slightly upbeat.

After their evening meal he had retired to the study with Hans.

"How is she doing?" The older man asked, sitting across from Georg.

"I think she's getting better," Georg smiled, albeit a little apprehensively. "Although, I still wish she'd find it easier to talk to me."

This time there was a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"She will do, when she's ready."

"She finds it easier to speak with the dog than she does her own husband," Georg muttered. He recalled an event just yesterday, when he had come to the bedroom to bring Maria a hot drink and she had been speaking to the little animal. He could only just hear her mumbling, but he knew it was about the miscarriage.

There was a side of him that knew it was helping her, but that did not overrule the side that desperately needed his wife. He needed to speak with her, and their distance was almost killing him inside.

"It's only easier for her because she will have no response," spoke Hans wisely. "It's the easiest of conversations. It's also her way of beginning to come to terms with what happened, but she will speak to you eventually."

Georg let his head drop into his hands. "I know," he admitted. "I'm sorry, I'm being selfish."

"You're not being selfish, you're grieving too."

Georg sighed. He knew that Hans was right, so instead of deciding to prolong this particular discussion, he merely remained silent.

"Everything is a mess," Georg admitted. Hans did not know for sure, but he assumed that it was about his family and their escape from Austria. The man was not stupid, he knew that the political situation must have had something to do with their arriving here. "If only I'd not forced them across the mountain, Maria would not have…"

"I don't know the exact circumstances," Hans began. "But, from what I have seen, you didn't force your family into anything. They happily followed you with what you did."

Georg looked up, apprehensive to begin with, but realising that this old man would not betray his confidence. "I couldn't fight for them, all of their ideals are just– It's disgusting what they are doing to people; to countries."

"Ah," agreed Hans, nodding in understanding. His wife and he may have lived away from the local town, but he still knew about the political situation sweeping across countries, the main threat being the power of Nazi Germany. He did not judge Georg for leaving the country with his family, for escaping the ideals that would slowly tear nations apart. Hans, after the two had been silent for a few moments, then began to speak again. "What are your plans?"

Georg looked at him, a small smile fidgeting to sit on his face. "The truth? I have no idea at the moment. What with Maria… I can't force her to carry on, not now."

"And what of when she is better?" Hans persisted. He wanted to know what the younger man was planning, the main reason to help him along his way. The family had been staying with Hans and Rosmarie for just over a week now, and if the old couple could help in any way they most certainly would.

Hans watched as Georg thought about telling him more about his planning. The younger man had striking blue eyes and dark hair, and Hans could not help but feel that he was of similar resemblance to his own son.

"The plan was America." Georg eventually revealed. "It is the only place we will truly be safe from the Nazi threat, and perhaps a war," the last part of his sentence was spoken in a barely audible whisper. But Hans heard, his eyes widening.

But the two gentlemen were stopped from continuing with their conversation, for a soft but enthusiastic knock had sounded at the door. After being told they could enter, Marta and Gretl opened the door sheepishly and instantly smiled lovingly at their father.

"What can we do for you ladies?" Hans asked with a wide smile, causing giggles to erupt from the two youngest von Trapp children.

"Father," they turned towards him. "We wondered if we could sing tonight. Ros–" Marta faltered with the name, always having found the pronunciation difficult. She finally settled with a "Ros has a guitar."

The pleading faces of his daughters was just something Georg could not refuse, so he stood up from his chair and nodded a yes. "Is your Mother joining us?"

Gretl shook her head, laughing a little. When Georg tilted his head in confusion, Gretl explained proudly. "Mother fell asleep on me!" Gretl laughed.

"Ah," Georg smiled, glad that Maria was finding sleep easier to come by.

Georg then joined his seven children in the living room, and Rosmarie and Hans who had come to sit with the family. The older couple each sat on one of the arm chairs. Georg sat on the larger seat with Gretl beside him and Liesl next to her with Marta on her lap, and the other children, except Fredrich, gathered around them on the floor. Fredrich was sat against the arm of the chair, standing slightly.

Rosmarie stood to give Georg the guitar. "I hear you're the ring–master." She smiled widely, waiting for Georg to accept the instrument.

Slightly wary, Georg took the guitar in his hands and mumbled words of gratitude to the older woman. As he began to strum a few of the strings, he found that the music enveloped his ears and immediately he felt able to play. He turned to Gretl, tapping her on the nose affectionately, asking her if she would like anything specific being played.

"Edelweiss!"

Georg chuckled, and turned to the rest of his children. "I thought you were all tired of me singing that?"

"That's just because you used to play it for Mother _every _night after you got engaged," Fredrich answered while the rest of the children laughed to themselves.

Brigitta then added. "But you haven't sang it since you got back from Paris!"

Georg smiled warmly at his children, and nodded as he began to play the opening notes. At first he looked down to the floor, memories swimming back of when he had sung this for his wife on numerous occasions, the first being the most memorable. Then he began to sing.

_Edelweiss, edelweiss_

_Every morning you greet me_

_Small and white, clean and bright_

_You look happy to meet me._

_Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow_

_Bloom and grow foreverEdelweiss, edelweiss_

_Bless my homeland forever._

As he had done the night he had first sung this song to Maria, he motioned for Liesl to join in, as well as the rest of his children. All of their voices mingled together perfectly.

_Edelweiss, edelweiss_

_Every morning you greet me_

_Small and white, clean and bright_

_You look happy to meet me._

_Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow_

_Bloom and grow forever_

_Edelweiss, edelweiss_

_Bless my homeland forever._

The children and Georg finished their song, and after a short moment of silence received a hearty applause from Rosmarie and Hans.

"My, you all sing beautifully together," the woman commented.

"Mother taught us," Kurt immediately complimented her.

Gretl then sighed heavily. "We sing better with Mother."

* * *

Louisa had remained quiet for most of the evening, only opening her mouth when her Father had begun singing with all her siblings. Her mind was still wrapped in the issues she had thought about the other day when she and her brothers and sisters had gone on the picnic. She had spent some time with her Mother since then, but never a moment alone.

She felt Liesl shuffling against her on the sofa.

Deciding to get up, Louisa untangled herself from the sheets laid across them, and tiptoed slowly away from her sleeping brother and sister. She knew her Father was in the study still with Hans, after all it was still quite early for the adults. Slowly, she carefully climbed the stairs, focused on not waking or disturbing a soul.

Eventually she reached her destination, and opened the bedroom door. Her eyes fell upon her Mother, fast asleep on the bed. Her face was still quite pale, but her steady breathing was a reassurance. Louisa then noticed the small Jack Russell asleep at the bottom of the bed, presumably over her Mother's feet. She smiled, acknowledging that he had hardly left her side in the past week. Ralph did look up at the new visitor, but relaxed once Louisa had smiled warmly at him and affectionately patted his head.

Carefully, Louisa approached the bed, got onto it and scooted as close to her Mother as possible. Her eyes closed almost instantaneously, a warmth spreading over her as it always had done in the company of Maria.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Thank you for the response! I hope you'll all enjoy this chapter.

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

Maria mumbled and tossed from left to right in her sleep. Her mumbles were incoherent, and it was evident that something indisputably horrid was plaguing her thoughts as she slept. Eventually her eyes flew open; her breathing was heavy and her forehead was covered in a layer of perspiration, but unlike on previous occasions she did not search the room frantically in search of comfort, because she knew where she was.

Eventually Maria calmed enough to gather her thoughts and allow her senses to return. When they did, she heard a series of steady breathing beside her. Maria's first thought was Georg, and a warmth filled her purposefully, having missed his comfortable touch recently, she vowed to begin initiating that once again very soon.

But as Maria turned her head, she could not help but be surprised as she acknowledged the blonde head of her daughter. Louisa was asleep, Maria assumed it was late, perhaps the early hours of the morning by now, but even that did not prevent the woman reaching out and smoothing her daughter's head. She was worried about Louisa – the girl rarely came to Maria when she was upset, even before she had become the children's mother. It would be down to Maria as their governess to find Louisa when she came upset or was troubled, to rub her back soothingly and speak to her directly.

Maria recalled a moment, only a few days after Georg had reconciled with the children. Georg had been inclined to spend some time with Baroness Schraeder, and Louisa had excused herself from their lesson, claiming she had a headache and wanted a glass of water. Maria had allowed her to go, but afterwards had promptly followed her to the kitchen. She had not found Louisa in the kitchen immediately, but once she had opened the door that led into part of the grounds, she had seen the girl crouched on the floor, her head bent to the ground.

She had approached her carefully, aware that, as she had mentioned to Georg only a few days previous, she still did not _know _Louisa. Of course, she had come to know the girl quite well – her likes and dislikes – but she had not made progress on cracking through the stealthy façade the thirteen–year–old had previously built. As Louisa became aware of her governess' appearance, her head had shot up. Maria could see that her eyes were red, and had immediately enveloped her in an embrace.

Louisa, after a few moments rocking in their embrace, had confessed to still feeling uncomfortable around her father. Maria had assumed Louisa had developed a close relationship with her father before the death of her mother, and she was proved correct in her assumptions. Whilst explaining that she just needed more time to adjust to these new circumstances than her siblings did, Maria had assured Louisa that she would find a way for her to spend some more time with her father. She also assured her that speaking to her siblings would help, and that Liesl and Fredrich especially would probably feel the same way as she did…

As Maria continued to run her fingers through Louisa's hair, the girl mumbled and opened her eyes slowly.

Maria breathed slowly. "Louisa?"

Upon hearing that voice, Louisa's eyes suddenly opened all the more quickly.

"I'm sorry, you want me to go," Louisa spoke regretfully, almost ready to pull herself from the bed and the room.

Maria desperately held onto her hand, stopping her daughter from leaving. Louisa had always been apprehensive about approaching her, and that included her worries. No matter how many times Maria had assured the children they could always come to her for whatever reason, Louisa still only approached her with an anxious look on her face.

"Louisa, if you want to stay, you can stay. _I _want you to stay."

Louisa calmed instantly upon hearing her stressed final sentence. Retreating back onto the bed, she rested her head once again on the pillow, her eyes focused directly on Maria.

"I noticed earlier you didn't seem your usual self," Maria began cautiously, aware that it usually took her insistence to initiate any form of personal conversation with Louisa. She dearly wished that Louisa would eventually feel comfortable speaking with her, approaching her for conversations like the rest of her siblings did.

Louisa shrugged, averting her eyes.

"I'm just worried, that's all."

Maria reached for her hand under the duvet cover, instantly taking Louisa's in her own.

Louisa knew that her mother was silently allowing her to reveal her worries, and in a way she appreciated having the ability to just speak, to vent all of her thoughts out without being anxious about someone else's response every single time she paused for breath.

"Nothing is the same anymore, everything has changed," Louisa breathed out. "I know we're all together, and that's what's important, but it's all just happened so quickly." Louisa shrugged, as if to show Maria that the words would simply not fall from her mouth.

But Maria did not say a word; only squeezed her daughter's hand in the hope it would act as some kind of reassurance and incentive to continue. She knew, especially after the past week, that just being able to let the words spring free was a step in the right direction.

Her Mother's touch was all the incentive Louisa really required to carry on speaking. The words seemed to then fall out a little easier, although the girl would still hesitate and struggle with some admittances. Louisa voiced her worries about everything: the reasons the family had to leave Austria in the first place, the reality of potentially having to set up a new life in an entirely different country, and also how worried she was becoming about her Father…

"How so?" Maria finally asked when Louisa admitted she felt worried about her Father and how he was coping with everything.

"I don't know," Louisa shrugged once again. "He just seems to have a lot on his mind…"

As Louisa trailed off and just began to murmur, Maria's mind had travelled onto the subject of her husband. She scorned herself for the amount of time she had spent away from Georg – such a stark contrast to that of their time in Paris. She realised that he would be suffering too, perhaps more than she was. Was he? Maria knew that she must speak to him eventually, and decided right then that this moment would be soon.

Maria shook away her thoughts momentarily as her eyes came to rest upon her fair–haired daughter once again. She could see the distance in Louisa's eyes, and also that she may still have something else on her mind.

"Is that everything?" Maria asked tentatively, moving her thumb in circular motions across the back of her daughter's hand.

Louisa eventually looked up, made eye contact, and then glanced back down. "When we were climbing the mountain, and when you were in so much pain…" Louisa trailed off, and was instantly grateful when her Mother did not speak, but instead continued to rub her hand, and with her other hand rub her shoulder. It reminded her of the embraces she would share with her birth Mother before she died, and just the notion of having this in her life again caused a few tears to fall down her cheeks. She rarely showed her emotions, but after wrapping them up and concealing them from the world for so long, the force was overwhelming, and even she felt unable to contain them any longer.

"… It was frightening, not just seeing you like that, but not knowing what would happen next." Louisa, subconsciously, wiped away the tear stains from her cheeks. "I realised that if anything had happened to you, I'd never have been able to tell you how much I missed you when you went back to the Abbey…"

Louisa stopped for a moment, pausing as if to summon the courage.

"… And to tell you how angry I felt."

Louisa paused again, and this time looked up at Maria as if to check she had not upset her Mother. There were no signs of Maria feeling the comment was unfair in any way, she knew that Louisa was extremely sensitive. As she had told Georg the day of their argument by the lake, she had never truly reached Louisa. In the weeks to come, she would grow to learn more about the third oldest von Trapp, but the fact remained that she was protective of her emotions and would never leave them so vulnerable if she could help it.

"I will never forgive myself for leaving you as I did." Maria suddenly spoke, feeling the need to reiterate her deep regrets, even if she had told all of the children before. Maria knew that Louisa had been wary of opening up to Maria, and when she eventually did it was a major step. She had been the last von Trapp child _she _had gotten to know, and she was also the last of the children to approach her Father after their reconciliation. To gain Louisa's trust and understanding, and then to leave, she knew must have hurt the girl deeply. This understanding seemed to pass between them without any words being spoken.

"I am sorry, Louisa," Maria apologised profoundly, shifting closer to her daughter, ensuring that she could wrap her arm around her. "Both for leaving, and for the distance I've put between us all these past days."

"It wasn't your fault," Louisa insisted. "You just needed your time, we understood that, Mother…" The last word was spoken hesitantly, and Louisa's eyes were swimming with tears as she eventually called her by the name she had acted by for months.

Maria too felt tears filling her eyes. It was the first time Louisa had called her Mother, and it lifted her heart in a way that barely anything else ever could. Maria's lips curved into an unmistakeable smile, and both let out a small, relieved laugh.

"It feels so natural calling you Mother," Louisa admitted.

"And I want it to be," Maria reassured her, squeezing the hand she still had a hold on. "I always want you to be able to come to me about anything that's on your mind."

A few moments of silence followed, before Louisa scooted closer to her Mother and gave her the opportunity to wrap her arms around her completely.

Mother and daughter fell asleep in this position, both completely reassured and comforted.

* * *

Maria, deciding she had spent too long confined to her room, decided to head downstairs with Louisa in the morning and join the family for breakfast. The delicious fumes drifted through onto the stairs as the pair of them walked down together, each with an arm around the other's shoulder.

The two youngest children greeted Maria instantly as she appeared down the stairs, rushing up to her and wrapping their arms around her waist. Maria's smile lit the room as Marta and Gretl rushed to greet her, and after embracing them tightly and saying a good–morning to them both, her eyes rose and looked at the rest of the room.

Brigitta, once again, had her head in another book, but she had looked up when her Mother had arrived in the room. They both shared a smile. She received the same from the rest of the children, before noticing that her husband was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Rosmarie or Hans.

"Where's your Father?"

"He's in the kitchen helping Rosmarie with breakfast," Liesl explained, although Maria did not miss the mischievous smile across her face.

"Your father, preparing food?" Maria asked in disbelief, although her tone was extremely dramatic and intended to make the laugh. It was clear that she meant her husband's talents clearly did not lie in food preparation.

But despite their laughter at Georg's expense, breakfast was indeed a fine affair. The array of food was delicious, and Maria felt extremely comforted to be back around her husband and children after the distance she had put between them. It was as though their life was beginning to get back to normal again.

The small glances Georg and Maria made across the table during breakfast gave both of them hope. Whenever Maria would catch Georg's eye, he would shoot her a small, reassuring smile, and she would smile back.

Once their meal had finished, Maria insisted on helping Rosmarie with the clearing away and washing up. Rosmarie accepted her offer, but insisted the children should go through to the living room and decide on their activities for the day. Georg and Hans joined them too, which left the two women alone in the kitchen.

"You look a little better," Rosmarie commented as the two of them got to work. "Did you get some sleep last night?"

"More than usual," Maria nodded, comfortable now with talking to the older woman, a figure she looked up to immensely.

"That's good." Rosmarie moved towards the table, gathered up all the plates after a few visits back and forth, before turning back to Maria at the sink. She began to wash as Maria prepared to dry. "I also noticed the looks between you and Georg…"

She trailed off, hoping her comment was not too forward. Rosmarie desperately wanted to initiate this conversation, knowing both husband and wife were suffering without each other.

As Maria began drying some of the plates, she kept her eyes fixed on the crockery and spoke. "I want to speak to him, desperately," Maria admitted, strangling back the adamant tears. "But the words just don't seem to form in my head. I know he's suffering too, and I hate the distance I've put between us."

"You can't blame yourself, Maria. You both needed time alone to gather your thoughts, you both lost a baby," Rosmarie reassured her tentatively. "And as for forming the right words, they will come. You just have to be positive."

Maria nodded mutely.

"It will take time, dear," Rosmarie found herself despising this phrase, given how often she had used it over the past days. "You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair."

"Where's that from?" Maria looked up, struck by Rosmarie's choice of words.

"It's an old Chinese proverb."

Maria smiled slightly, absorbing the words and finding solace in their meaning.

Once the two women had finished clearing away the plates, Rosmarie motioned for Maria to join her family in the living room. Upon entering, Maria found all of the children sat around: Fredrich, Kurt and Louisa discussing some matters quietly, Liesl sat with Marta braiding her hair, Brigitta reading her book and Gretl sat beside Georg. As she approached, noticing there were no spare seats, her husband seemed to read her mind.

"Come here, Gretl." Georg lifted his youngest daughter onto his lap, sitting her sideways and letting Maria sit down beside them.

She smiled appreciatively at her husband, and pinched Gretl's nose affectionately, causing her to giggle.

"Still enthralled in Mr Dickens, Brigitta?"

Her daughter looked up slowly, her eyes shining as she nodded. "You should read some, Mother, the way he writes is just…"

"But paid by the word, so explaining something in fifty words that could be summed up in ten," responded Georg sarcastically. However, upon noticing his daughter's wide eyes, he promptly added. "But brilliant all the same."

But visualising his daughter's still murderous expression, he added again.

"My meaning simply is, that whatever I have tried to do in life, I have tried with all my heart to do well; that whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devoted myself to completely; that in great aims and in small, I have…"

Georg trailed off, raising his eyebrow to his daughter.

"… I have always been thoroughly in earnest," Brigitta finished off happily. "_David Copperfield_, I gave it to Mother to read back in Austria. Do you remember?" She addressed Maria, still smiling.

Maria stopped to think for a moment, but then nodded, smiling. "I do."

As Brigitta happily began reading her book again, the room fell into a comfortable atmosphere. Some of the children were still conducting conversations between each other. Before Maria could change her mind, she moved her hand towards her husbands. As Georg felt something soft and warm encase his hand, his heart lifted. Turning his head slightly, he saw Maria smiling at him tentatively, and then her eyes flickered back to their children, watching them all with pride and love.

* * *

**Disclaimers: **I don't own The Sound of Music, or of course the works of Dickens. Please let me know what you thought!


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Thank you for all your response. This chapter turned out a bit different to what I'd originally planned, but hopefully it will still work.

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

Maria made her way outside, letting the sun hit the back of her slender neck, revelling in the feeling she had missed greatly. Although these were not the same surroundings as she would experience on her mountain back in Salzburg, just being back outside, being able to look up at the sky, and to feel the natural air brushing inhibited against her skin, was joyous and despite the circumstances that still surrounded the lives of the von Trapp family, Maria smiled.

She continued to walk away from the farmhouse until she reached a patch of fairly long grass – Hans did keep it under control, she thought to herself. While her mind strayed onto the old man, she also began to think about Rosmarie. She could never show her true gratitude at all the assistance and help the old couple had given them all: taking nine strangers into their home, Rosmarie helping her through such a horrid experience, caring and showing love to all of their children. As Maria sat herself down in the grass, she looked up at the sky towards the heavens, saying a silent prayer of thanks to God for having blessed them with such loving people. Maria knew that, even if the family never saw Hans and Rosmarie again, they would remain good and true friends.

Maria sighed loudly, her mind casting back to the past, and simultaneously glancing in the direction of Austria. Tears were forming in her eyes as reality began to strike her once again, as it had done on previous occasions. The children had often come to her in the past few days, voicing their worries about leaving their homeland. She had held them while they wept for all they had lost, and to the older children had provided them with a loving embrace. Even Fredrich and Liesl had professed how much their losses pained them, although both were also keen to voice that the most important result from all of their travelling was that their family was still glued together; it had not fallen apart.

The children's love had remained stable and unconditionally strong even since their birth mother had passed away, and for the three years when their father had been grieving. And their love was still strong now, even if that tether sometimes would fray and result in Maria having to console them, although she always told them that crying was never to be ashamed of. No one could be strong all the time, everyone needed to cry every once in a while.

Maria had to admit that most of the time these words would be directed at Liesl: the sixteen–year–old, soon to be seventeen, who had taken charge of her siblings after her mother's death, and had raised them with as much love as she could give. The child that presumably remembered the most about her own mother, and the child that had realised the impact in which her father had distanced himself during that time…

Maria could no longer see her mountain. She could no longer listen for the sounds of Nonnberg Abbey and the beautiful music of the Sisters that would drift into her ears as she would languidly spend her days singing at the top of her voice and using the entire capacity of her lungs. She could no longer visit the graves of her parents, and she could no longer visit them when she needed to talk, vent out her frustrations, or just simply cry. Never would she walk into Salzburg market, collect two bunches of flowers from the old woman's stall and take the short walk to the cemetery. Maria, like the children had done previously, began to cry unashamedly at what she would never experience, or see, again.

"I'll miss it too," came a recognisable voice that reassured her that she had not lost _everything _that she held dear.

The sun was streaming down from its position in the sky, as it was closing on midday, so as Maria looked up to visualise the face that belonged to the voice, the details of his face were unable to be seen. He was mostly a silhouette, standing just above her. But even though the details could not be seen, Maria could feel him smiling down at her. There was a kind of warmth that always filled her body when he so much as even looked, or smiled, at her.

"The children will too," Maria spoke cautiously, her face turning back to the ground as she found interest in a strand of grass. She tugged it from its place and began to pick it apart. She could not deny that, even though she wanted to talk to her husband again, she was nervous about how to approach it. Speaking about the children seemed to always be a great foot-hold. "They've all come to me at some point these past few days…" Maria trailed off, unsure of what she could say, but Georg remained silent, urging her to continue without uttering a word. "We need to find a way of saying good–bye to everything, if not for their sakes then ours too."

Maria's eyes looked up again after her small speech, telling her husband that she was not only referring to their possessions, friends and home back in Austria. She meant their baby too, the child they had lost, and this was her way of telling him she needed to speak to him.

Georg seemed to understand her, he always had. He complied with her subtle request and dropped himself down on the grass beside her. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he flexed and extended his fingers a number of times, before placing them down on the ground in front of him.

Now when Maria turned to look at her husband, she could see his features clearly. His blue eyes were almost piercing, she had always found them truly powerful and captivating. But although there were often negative implications attached to the adjectives she would use to describe him because of their dominance, his gaze always seemed to envelop her in an admirable warmth. She always felt safe beneath his gaze, because although it _was _indescribably powerful, he was silently telling her that he would never leave her, or let anything happen to her.

Maria slowly smiled at her husband, and was ecstatic when he mirrored her actions.

"We'll think of something soon," Georg reassured her.

The definite reassurance in his voice comforted Maria. In fact, just his voice was reassurance to her aching soul. She had missed hearing his voice over these past days, or at least hearing a voice that was only for her, and Maria scorned herself once more for the distance she had unwillingly put between them. She missed the closeness shared in Paris, the way she could just speak to him about her past and the torment she had been put through at the hands of her Uncle. It had been so _easy_, but now she just found herself incapable of forming the right words. Saying what was on her mind had never been difficult for Maria, but now it just seemed like someone had taken all of her vocabulary and hidden it in a part of her mind that was dark and hard to find without the reassurance of a light. She knew that light would have to be lit by Georg.

"We'll all miss a lot of things we left behind," commented Georg, noticing that Maria seemed silent and lost in her thoughts.

Maria nodded in agreement, and in reference to the probability of never seeing their closest friends again, spoke. "It will take time for all of us to adjust to this new life."

"If you mean what _we_ had too, then–" Georg misunderstood her comment, assuming it to be that she thought they had left everything _they _had behind.

Maria's head shot up. "What? No, that's not what–"

"Then what did you mean?" Georg asked, confused.

"Our friends that are still living in Austria…" Maria watched as her husband's expression softened. "… The Abbey too, the Reverend Mother and the Sisters. They were once going to be my whole life, and now all of that has gone just like that." She lifted her hand into the air, motioning just how quickly it seemed to have passed by.

"You still have a family here. A family that loves you," he reassured.

Maria started to cry, tears streaming down her face as she suddenly felt as though she had been thrown into the throes of deep emotional conflict. Adding salt to the wounds only impounded the pain, but she knew from experience that this could also stop the flow of blood escaping; to start closing the wounds and the distance.

As Georg reached out to take her hand, his touch issued a certain degree of warmth throughout her system. But then something else took hold of her feelings, something which caused her to pull her hand back: denial. Maria shook her head frantically, drawing further away from her husband as he remained sitting beside her. She drew her knees to her chest and began rocking back and forth, simply letting the tears cascade down her cheeks.

Soon her sobs became even more fierce, and eventually they took hold of her entire body. It was almost as though she were a little, wooden boat in the midst of a ferocious sea, being tossed this way and that, completely vulnerable to a power way above her. A power she could no longer control as it submerged above the surface she had been trying to keep at a minimum.

Georg ached to console her. After a few moments deliberating, but more preparing himself for her potential retraction from his touch, he leant forward and let his hand brush her cheek. "Maria…"

Maria felt herself calming, but only slightly. His touch sent a momentary sense of calm through her body until she was sure it touched her soul. But then his touch only seemed to impound the grief further, almost as though it was a physical reminder of everything that had happened.

As Georg saw his wife shaking and crying once more, he shaped his hand to cup her cheek, letting his thumb brush away as many tears as it physically could. Soon his thumb ceased in its work, for Maria had stopped shaking, and the main fall of tears had been stopped.

Maria's eyes lifted, almost searching for those of her husband. When they met, Maria found that all the strength she had left disappeared as she collapsed towards her husband, letting their foreheads rest together gently. Georg knew this experience would be incredibly difficult for her. Her life had undeniably changed by such an extent in the past few months: she had fallen in love with a man and married him, where before she had been determined on living a life solely focused on God.

Her breathing was uneven, shaken and a few stray tears were still falling down her cheeks. But her state had considerably calmed considering a few moments ago, and soon Maria found the strength to speak. "We lost our baby, Georg."

Her voice was timid, almost broken. Maria's admittance was spoken in almost a whisper, but their close proximity allowed Georg to hear her clearly. Maria's admission sent two powerful emotions through his system: grief that they had indeed lost their first child, but also relief that Maria had finally admitted this to him.

During their silence, Georg finding no words to say, Maria had released herself from her husband's hold and had steadily got herself to her feet. It was a struggle at first, she had been sat for quite a while and she was still exhausted, but eventually she managed to stand and began to walk a few paces away.

It seemed, Georg thought, that her admittance had also hit her as it had done him.

Finding his own feet, Georg followed her. As he approached her form, he placed his hands on her shoulders, hoping that it would provide her with some comfort.

Maria did not tear away from his touch, but she did not seem to relax beneath it either. She merely stood there, almost motionless. Knowing that Georg needed her as much as she needed him, she did not draw away, despite the fact she was crying heavily again and desperately felt the need to be alone.

In a strangled voice, which entirely lacked in conviction and had an excessively solemn tone, Maria managed to speak. "We lost our baby… How can we ever go back to how we were? ... I never want to go through this again."

Maria had spent days on end trying to find her voice, although she knew this was not what she had originally intended to say, however this time it was Georg who was stuck for words. He wanted to tell her about Agathe, that life would get better after this, but somehow the words could not manage an escape. Georg screwed his eyes shut desperately.

They stayed in that same position, silent, for an amount of time neither would remember in years to come.

* * *

Not long after Maria had collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted, with Ralph suddenly by her side, there came a resounding knock at the door.

"Come in," Maria called softly, ready to close her eyes and sleep. Her hand went out to stroke the dog's head, trailing it across its ears and tickling them affectionately. Ralph tilted his head to one side, urging her to continue. Maria complied with his request.

Rosmarie appeared at the door, nothing in hand but with a sympathetic and loving smile on her face. Words were not needed between them, and Rosmarie closed the door behind her and moved to sit beside the younger woman on the bed.

"You two spoke, then?"

Maria smiled softly, nodding and continuing to run her hand across the dog's soft fur.

"But?"

Maria sighed, drawing her hand away from Ralph so she could bury her face in them. As she pulled them back, her eyes met with those of Rosmarie, and suddenly she could not hold it back anymore. "I don't doubt the love I have for him, I could never…" Maria stopped. "But it's just so hard to believe anything good can come from this. I don't want to get pregnant again, I don't want–"

"Maria," Rosmarie gripped her hand, and spoke in an almost motherly tone. "These things happen, but you cannot let it govern the rest of your life." The strong tone of her voice caused Maria to look up, almost surprised. Rosmarie's tone softened considerably as she continued. "I lost a baby too, I wasn't much older than you..."

Maria's eyes widened, and then filled with tears for her dear friend. "I'm sorry."

"... But three, healthy children followed. I couldn't have asked for more..."

The two women found themselves sharing a smile.

"... But you need to let your husband in. He's the only one who can truly understand how you feel, he'll be feeling just the same."

The tone in Rosmarie's voice left Maria with little alternative but to nod.

Within minutes of Rosmarie leaving the bedroom, Maria's head had dropped down on the pillow and her eyes had fluttered closed.

* * *

"It seems the Nazis really are taking over Austria," Hans commented as he entered his study, noticing Georg sat as he usually did on a night once the children were in bed. The old man threw the newspaper down on his desk, sighing loudly. "More people are trying to get out by the day, but it seems all the borders are all closed."

"They were starting to close when we left," commented Georg dryly. "How do you think Switzerland will fare?"

"I hope to God we'll hold out," answered Hans quickly. "But I hear Zurich might be leaning towards the Nazis… It'll be difficult to stay neutral if all the countries around us are invaded. Although with all of these mountains around us, it wouldn't be the wisest of moves by Germany to invade."

"Judging by how it looks now, the best move would be to get out of Europe."

"Where will you go?"

Georg paused for a moment. "America, I think…" He then threw his head into his hands, sighed loudly and brought his head back up to face the older man. "I just– After what happened as we were coming here, I can't–"

"You can't think like that," Hans spoke strictly. "It's the safest option for all your family, and all of them will understand that it has to be done. Take your time, plan what you'll do."

Georg nodded solemnly, as he used to with his own father and grandfather after being spoken to and advised about a certain subject. He could never describe his gratitude towards Hans for being such a grand figure and friend, that which had helped and advised him over these past days.

"And I'll help you," started Hans. "Starting tomorrow."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **First of all, I'm apologising in advance because this is short. I tried adding more to it, but it just didn't work. So to make up for it, the next chapter will be posted very soon. And secondly, sorry for not updating _Never A Moment Alone _just yet, but what I want to write just doesn't want to go down on pen and paper. I will try and finish it soon though. Thank you for all your reviews to the previous chapter. Please let me know what you think to this one, I am doing it for a reason._  
_

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

_The room was delightful, Maria had always thought so. The decorative grandeur of the walls had been captivating the first time she had stepped into the room, it having been such a contrast to the plain room she resided in at the Abbey. _

_But as the Baroness Schrader continued to speak, Maria found the room shrinking and closing in around her, despite its actual size._

"_There's nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him."_

_There was a certain degree of harshness in her voice, something which caused Maria to involuntarily shiver. There she was, standing in her slip before a woman clad in the most decorative dress Maria had ever witnessed, and that was indeed saying something when compared to all of the women downstairs at the party. Suddenly Maria felt the difference between them, and how it must have looked to the Baroness when she saw the Captain and herself dancing._

"_What makes it so nice is he thinks he's in love with you."_

_Thinks, thinks, thinks…_

"_He _thinks _he's in love with you."_

"_He _thinks _he's in love with you."_

"_He _thinks _he's in love with you."_

_The words played over and over again, almost as if something was tampering with Maria's memories, causing pain and doubt to enter her mind._

Maria tossed and turned in her sleep, mumbling to herself which, to anyone else, sounded incoherent and much like groans of displeasure and discomfort. The bed covers were beginning to clamp around her, causing Maria difficulty in moving which only impounded the struggle she was finding herself in. She continued to move from side to side, trying to free herself…

_Maria ran down the dirt–ridden road, adamant in her charge with all her intentions clear. Her carpet bag was in one hand, her guitar case in the other. The last time she had walked down this road, she had needed to sing to herself to gain the confidence she required to face a Captain and seven children. There had been some form of doubt in her mind, but that had been overridden as she sang and skipped along the road._

_Except now, there was no doubt whatsoever in her mind. She had spoken to the Reverend Mother, she had accepted that she did indeed love Captain von Trapp, and she would run into that house and tell him so!_

_Once she came to the gates, she flung them open and ran towards the house. She could hear the children in the distance, but nothing could deter her from finding the Captain…_

_But once she opened the door, the sight knocked her backwards._

_The Captain and Baroness Schrader were kissing in the middle of the hallway, but her entrance had torn them away._

_They both turned to her._

"_Fraulein Maria, how lovely to see you again," spoke Elsa in her rich voice._

_The Captain remained quiet, staring at her._

"_Oh we must tell you the news, we're married now."_

_Maria's breath caught as she did indeed notice the gold wedding bands on both of their hands. "But, Captain! Please, Captain!"_

_Her pleas fell on deaf ears as the Baroness wrapped her arms around the Captain from behind, covering his chest as darkness descended around them. The couple fell back, away from Maria, happy smiles on their faces, while the Baroness seemed to master an extremely formidable and sinister laugh. The children were behind them, all waving good-bye to Maria as they all turned away and joined their father and new mother._

_Suddenly Maria was in complete darkness. She turned around, and found herself at the Abbey gates._

_Maria reached out and pulled the bell. _

_It sounded, but no one came. _

_She pulled it again. _

_There was still no answer._

_She brought her arms up to rattle the iron gates, shaking them back and forth as they made a noise. But still no one came._

"_Reverend Mother!" Maria called, exasperated._

_Maria shook the gates again, but to no avail. Sisters were walking past, but none turned their heads to Maria._

"_Sister Margaretta, Sister Berthe!"_

_Maria continued to shake the gates._

"_Sister Sophia! Reverend Mother!"_

_Letting the tears pour down her cheeks, she fell forward against the iron bars, all of her strength leaving her._

_Then she felt pain in her lower abdomen, and suddenly letting go of the gate she cradled her stomach while simultaneously collapsing to the ground. Maria began to cry out, both in pain and in desperate need of help._

_Once she opened her eyes, Maria found herself back on the mountain. It was dark, she could barely see anything. Upon raising her hand to the line of her eyes, she could just see its outline, and she could feel blood running across it, dripping off it…_

_Desperately she looked around her, calling for Georg and the children. But none of them answered, because none of them were there. She was alone on the mountain. She cried out once more for help, but her cries only fell on the trees and mountain tops. There was no one here with her, no soul to help her, she was alone and always would be…_

Maria woke up suddenly, gasping for air violently as though she had been underwater for a large amount of time. With one hand she brought it to her chest, clutching the fabric of her nightgown as she attempted to regain her breath, while with the other she reached out to the side of the bed, searching for her husband.

But he was not there. Instead, she found her young daughter sat there, a wide–eyed expression across her face.

Maria turned slowly, regaining her breath and wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed on her forehead.

Her bright, blue, frightened eyes took in the image of Marta. Maria gulped at first, still trying to come to terms with her awakening.

"Marta…" She breathed heavily, before she gulped and sat up slowly.

"You were crying in your sleep," Marta told her apprehensively.

It was then that Maria recalled earlier that night when Marta had come into her bedroom after she too had suffered from a nightmare. Maria had allowed her to stay with her for a while until she fell back to sleep, but realised that she herself must have fallen asleep before she could have taken her back to her own bed. Reaching out her hand, Maria smoothed back her daughter's hair and stroked her cheek affectionately.

"Just a nightmare, darling, just like you had."

"Grown–ups have nightmares too?"

Maria nodded mutely.

"Were there monsters under your bed too?" Marta asked innocently, carefully shifting closer to her mother, and in doing so encouraging the soothing touches and the now powerful embrace her mother had pulled her into.

Maria hesitated for a moment, before pulling Marta down into her arms as she lay back down. "Sort of," she responded, kissing Marta's head as she hoped to sooth the girl back to sleep. "Very different monsters, though."

Marta seemed to appreciate this explanation and nodded.

Within moments the young girl was asleep in her mother's arms, her breathing even.

But for Maria, it took a while for her to get back to sleep. Her mind continued to swim back to the scenes in her nightmare, and although the proof of Marta in her arms was enough to banish all doubt, Maria still did not find sleep until a few hours later. But one thing Maria did know was that she would never be alone again.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Thank you for all of your response! They're getting there.

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

After receiving little more than a couple of hours sleep the night before, Maria woke with the early morning sunrise, along with Marta who seemed to have inherited Georg's early–rising tendencies. While on their honeymoon in Paris, there was rarely a time when Maria would wake before her husband – she would either find him on the hotel balcony watching as the city began to come to life, or in bed beside her, staring at her with tender, loving eyes. Marta now walked across to the window as she noticed her mother's sleepy eyes and pulled open the curtains dramatically, laughing a little as she did so.

"Wakey wakey, sleepy head!"

Maria shot her a dramatic, mocking glare and murmured before rising up from the bed and gathering her daughter in her arms from behind. The scene played out so Maria was stood behind Marta, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, and both were looking out of the window as the day dawned and the sun rose above one of the distant mountains. The sight was beautiful, and the soft exhale from Marta caused Maria to lean forward and drop a loving kiss onto the top of her head.

Mother and daughter stayed in that same position for rather a while, but just as Maria was about to release her hold of Marta and resume getting dressed and prepared for the day, the young girl exclaimed, "Look it's father!"

Marta pointed to a solitary figure leaving the farmhouse, presumably to go on another morning walk. Maria knew that her husband always used to spend his mornings at the villa in Austria swimming in the lake, weather and season permitting of course, and she also knew that he would miss that experience dearly. Swimming perhaps set him right for the day, and also brought him back to the water she knew he adored, even if it was not the sea. Maria's eyes immediately drew back to the window, and she watched her husband tentatively as he hunched his shoulders and begun walking away from the farmhouse.

Before she knew otherwise, Marta had knocked loudly on the window, intent on letting her father know of their presence. The sound did indeed summon his attention, and Georg turned to look up at two of the ladies in his life.

His mouth, which had been flat and lifeless before, turned into an enthusiastic smile as he rose his hand to wave at them. Both Marta and Maria waved back as enthusiastically as he had done, smiling widely. They watched as he blew them both kisses, giggling together before they watched him turn and continue with his morning walk.

"Mother?" Marta asked as the two of them had moved away from the window. Maria was now pulling out a dress of Rosmarie's the old woman had kindly given her and unbuttoning it. She turned to her daughter and smiled. "Can you braid my hair today?"

Maria tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

Marta immediately knew what her mother meant.

"Please?"

Smiling brightly, Maria nodded. "Go and get changed first, and then come back in here and I'll do it."

Marta smiled brightly, skipping out of the room to go and get changed.

* * *

After braiding Marta's hair, and then Gretl's as she had entered the room almost demanding for hers to be done too, the three headed downstairs to breakfast. Most of the family were seated already, patiently waiting for the remaining members to come downstairs – all except for Kurt, whose face mirrored that of a seemingly starving man who could barely wait until he could eat his morning meal. His expression reminded Maria of a time back at the villa when she had arrived late for dinner, and she absently laughed at the memory before greeting everyone good–morning.

As she took her seat in between Kurt and Gretl, her gaze momentarily moved onto her husband, who looked wide awake and refreshed from his walk earlier that morning. In return, after meeting her gaze, he smiled at his wife pleasantly, before turning to Marta and touching her cheek affectionately.

"I believe it's Kurt's turn to say grace?" Rosmarie announced as she placed the last of the plates down at the table and took her seat.

"Thank you Lord for our food, Amen."

Everyone around the table laughed, as was almost tradition whenever Kurt was asked to say grace. Being ever the eager sibling to proceed with his meal, his prayers would always be the shortest, and were said extremely quickly that it was amazing that anyone could decipher what he was saying.

While laughing, Maria playfully ruffled his hair before proceeding with her own breakfast. She took a piece of bread from the plate and spread some jam across it, but not before assisting Gretl in cutting up her own food. As she did this, Maria tried to ignore the burning gaze she could feel to be that of her husband. When she did look up, she would see the concern in his eyes. She knew he was probably worried about the huge, dark circles around her eyes, the evidence she had not received much sleep the night before, or the past few nights as a matter of fact.

It was only when Gretl asked Marta a question that the subject was brought up: "Where did you sleep last night, Marta? You weren't there when I woke up."

"I had a nightmare and went to mother," Marta explained. Maria was silently praying that her daughter would not mention her own nightmare, but her prayers were to no avail. "She had a nightmare too, didn't you, mother?"

Now all eyes were on Maria, and the young woman could feel her cheeks burning at everyone's inquisitive stares. Most of the children were curious, presumably wondering the same as Marta had last night when she asked if adults had nightmares too, whereas Rosmarie, Georg, Hans and a few of the older children just looked at her, concerned. Georg and Rosmarie were the most concerned, however. Both of them would continue to look over to Maria during their meal.

"Mhm," Maria nodded, taking a sip of water. She then dared look up, but instead of meeting her husband's gaze she looked across at Marta. "But you were there, weren't you? So I was absolutely fine."

Marta's lips curved into an unmistakably, proud smile at the compliment, nodded, and then once more resumed eating her meal.

But Maria could not shake her husband's gaze for the rest of the meal, and nor for the remainder of the day…

It was around seven o'clock, when all of the children had announced they had needed an early night, when Maria eventually approached Georg once more. He had made it clear to her during the day that he was there should she need to speak with him, and especially after the conversation with Rosmarie the night before, Maria felt herself being pulled in his direction. She had no complaints, all she needed was the incentive. He was in the study, as he was wont to do nowadays, and she found him nursing a generous glass of alcohol. She stood in the doorway for quite some time, having just seen Hans leave the room and knowing her husband would now be alone, watching Georg as he became seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Maria only caught his attention when she stepped forward into the room and closed the door softly behind her.

Georg looked up immediately, his eyes relatively wide and inquisitive. He silently motioned for her to come over and join him, shifting across slightly to give her more than enough room on the large chair. Maria complied, and moved across to sit beside her husband, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on him throughout this time, almost as though she was willing herself not to back down this time.

Maria suddenly motioned for Georg to pass her his glass, and although he seemed quite surprised to begin with, he handed it to her and watched as she took a sip of the liquid. He watched as her face tightened slightly, but moments later she had handed him back the glass and begun to glance down at the floor.

Finally, Georg took hold of his initiative and began to speak, breaking the silence that, after minutes, he was certain Maria felt uncertain about breaking. "You haven't had a nightmare since we were in Paris," he commented softly, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on her.

When Maria looked up at her husband a few moments later, a few tears were rolling down her cheeks. Upon responding to her husband's observation, Maria laughed a little, although the presence of her tears caused her throat to close up a little as she did. "It's not a regular thing…"

As much as Maria wanted to forget her nightmare, it would not go away. Of course, she knew that she was not alone, that much was certain as soon as she had woken up. But that still did nought to prevent the terror she felt in her dream. Even now, years after she had left the home of her Uncle and had a family of her own, she would still have nightmares about her time there under his clutches; she would still fear the nightmares where his face appeared. As much as reality told her different, it seemed nothing could stop the fear rising as she slept, almost as though she was completely out of control. The only consolation, the only comfort, would be that upon waking, reality would be there to comfort her, either in the form of their children, or her husband.

And even now, as his hand reached out to comfortingly rub her own, reality was overshadowing her dreams. A force powerful enough to banish them.

Slowly, almost as though Maria was afraid to proceed without caution, she began to speak. Undoubtedly, her husband's hand was working wonders with her confidence. "In my dream, I was back at the villa, the night of the party… the Baroness was telling me that you _thought _you were in love with me, and that doubt just circled around my mind, over and over again…"

Georg could only nod in understanding, while also continuing to rub circles with his thumb across the back of her hand. He had learnt during their engagement about how Elsa had gone to speak with Maria, and after some persuasion from Maria had calmed and accepted that Elsa had done so because of her feelings for him at the time, even if her actions hurt a lot of people. Maria had reasoned that, since she was soon to become his fiancé and later his wife had things not changed the way they did, the sight of the two of them dancing that night must have shaken her considerably. Georg smiled fondly at Maria now, aware of her kind and good–natured heart.

"… So then I left. But when I came back, when I was going to tell you how I felt, you two were married. You began to fall away together, you and the children, and all around me was just black. I turned and I was back at the Abbey, it was all so quick," Maria breathed out, the hand that her husband did not have shaking a little. "When I rang the bell and shook the gates no one came, and then the pain…"

Maria stopped, and Georg could tell immediately that she was talking about the experience on the mountain.

Through her tears, Maria continued, adamant to tell her husband all. "… I was alone on the mountain, I tried calling for you and the children, but none of you were there. I was so frightened…"

Maria stopped now, letting her tears and sobs take over. She brought her hand away from Georg's grip, but only so she could throw her face into her hands; so she could hide her tears.

Unable to watch Maria like this any longer, Georg wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her gently into his body, murmuring words of comfort to her quietly.

For a while, the two of them stayed that way. Maria seemed comfortable back in her husband's embrace, and Georg was only too happy to have her there. He had missed how _right _it felt to have her in his arms, and it also brought him the most comfort and reassurance he had felt since the family had begun their journey through to Switzerland.

But as the two of them stayed that way, Georg could not resist pressing his lips to her temple, his lips lingering on her soft, smooth skin.

Almost straight away, Maria seemed to tense and pull back away from him.

Georg, a confused expression on his face, could only watch as Maria withdrew from the sofa and his embrace. "Maria…"

"Please, Georg, I can't– I'm not ready for–"

She was stopped, not only by tears but by her husband as he got to his feet.

Maria was about to leave the study and return back upstairs before Georg caught her arm. It was a bold action, it was not the most gentlest of touches, but it did not hurt her.

"Maria, stop."

Georg boldly stated, adamant that she would not leave until he had spoken properly to her.

"Please, Georg…"

"No, Maria. You're going to stay here, we're going to talk about this." Georg paused. "I'm not going to let you run away again." There was a double meaning to his words, Maria knew. He was most likely referring to when she left and ran to the Abbey, and his incapability of stopping her, but also now. He wasn't going to let her run this time, she knew that for sure.

Maria opened her mouth to have her say.

"There's no use in putting this distance between us when it's only going to make things worse," Georg got there first, silencing Maria. "We need to try and explain each other, not cower away when you get _this _close to a break through."

Georg emphasised how close they were by creating a small distance between his thumb and index finger, with the hand that did not have a hold on Maria's arm.

"You're shying away from what's really happening; what's really here in front of you."

Georg could tell that his voice was getting louder, and that his tone was becoming more decisive, and perhaps more menacing to some, but this needed to be said and he could find no other way of letting Maria know this.

"And there's no way I would force you into anything you're uncomfortable with," he stated boldly, referring to her reaction to his kiss. "When have I _ever _given you reason to believe that?"

"Never."

Maria's reply was quick. Her voice was solemn, almost as though something was dawning on her now.

The hand that was still latched onto Maria's arm, the fingers that were gripping onto the fabric of her dress as though life depended on it, slowly began to move down, before Georg's hand found that of his wife. Both of them looked down at their joined hands. For Maria it brought back a few memories.

_The sound of the organ was filling the room around her. The musical notes drifted and rose to the top of the Church building, up to the roof. It was a beautiful sound as it filled her ears, but that was nowhere near as beautiful as the sight before her eyes. She had been careful not to break eye contact with her husband–to–be all the time she had been walking up the aisle. It had been a promise of theirs the last time they had spent time together before Maria would spend her last night at the Abbey – to keep looking at him. Keep looking at her fiancé, her sea captain, Georg. _

_She had once told him she was frightened about tripping over, especially in such a long dress. After all, Maria would be the first to admit she was quite a clumsy person, and tripping in the aisle whilst in her wedding dress, with tonnes of people watching her would not have been the best start to a wedding day._

_Eventually she reached him. Both their smiles turned wider as he held out his arm for her to take his hand._

_He had been wearing gloves, but their contact still sent ripples of electricity through both their bodies. Just the feel of his hand across hers as they both walked up to the priest filled Maria with warmth. And love. Love for the man she would spend the rest of her life loving. The touch of his hand was as loving as his embraces, and kisses. It was such a simple gesture, but one that spoke volumes about how he felt. _

Maria was still glancing down at their hands.

"_Do you know when I first started loving you?"_

_His voice had her main attention, but somewhere she could absently feel his hands enclosing her own, almost as though, after professing his love, he was cementing his feelings and telling her that he had meant every word. It was also an act Maria found terribly endearing. Their hands began to sway a little as he moved them back into the middle of the beautifully lit gazebo._

"_That night at the dinner table when you sat on that ridiculous pine cone."_

His voice, his admission sent all of the feelings she had for him straight to her mouth, where she then emitted a deep sigh of affection. Her blue eyes were still focused on his hands, however when she looked up Maria found his eyes to be staring into hers.

Maria was deeply involved in their trance; her eyes would not move from their position – she dared not even blink. Slowly, ever so slowly, she began to rub circles across the back of his hand, as he had done for her only minutes ago.

Georg's eyes lit up when he felt her touch. Maria swore she noticed tears threatening to fall from his eyes, they were glistening, but somehow he managed to keep them back.

When he spoke, his voice seemed almost broken. But there was still a thread of conviction left he could muster, and he gathered all the strength he could possibly find before admitting, "I need you, Maria. I can't do this without you anymore."

His admission seemed to break down all of the walls Maria had built. She finally let her guard down, let her emotions run wild. Although both of them knew they still had more to say, all they could do right now was pull into each other's arms. It was Maria who moved first, stepping forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his chest, reaching around to his back as she rested her head down across his beating heart. In response, Georg proceeded in wrapping his own arms around Maria, content as he rested his head atop of her own.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Thank you for all the reviews! Just another couple of chapters left after this, I'll try and get the next up as soon as possible.

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

When Maria returned to the bedroom a little later, Georg announcing that he would check on the children and then prepare a drink for them both, Maria found an old, worn and battered book sitting on the bed. Its edges were torn, and some pages were folded down – not out of carelessness, but out of admiration and love, leaving the ability to recover loved quotations quicker. Maria smiled softly, and fondly traced her hands across the cover. _MACBETH._

At first, she was confused. But then she remembered a conversation with Rosmarie earlier that day and merely assumed her friend had lent it to them.

_Rosmarie entered the bedroom at around midday to find Maria sat on the bed, almost a content smile across her face. She had just shared another conversation with Liesl, and the older woman had seen the girl leave the bedroom and took the opportunity to speak with Maria. The older woman could see that something must have happened, or at her nightmare had worried her unconditionally._

_Deciding not to involve herself about her nightmare, telling herself that if Maria wanted to discuss it with her she would, she decided to keep their conversation casual; perhaps evoke some sort of reaction and persuade her to speak with her husband about it._

"_How long have you two been married?" Rosmarie asked as she came and sat herself down on the side of the bed. She knew, she had asked the children before, but she thought that opening up would repair all closeness. All the couple needed was the incentive to do so._

_Maria looked up, smiling at the question. "Not long, just over a month." Maria paused for a moment, looking down at her hands before continuing. "We had just returned home from our honeymoon when we were forced to leave…"_

_A moment of silence passed between them both, before Rosmarie was the one to speak up and break it. _

"_What would you both do on your honeymoon?" _

_Maria blushed, turning beat red. _

"_You mean except for…" Rosmarie nodded, a small smile creeping onto her lips. The older woman shifted herself more onto the side of the bed, her eyes watching fondly over Maria. "Well we would explore Paris, we would visit all the sites and…" Maria stopped, noticing that Rosmarie's expression had changed. "You mean something we could–" Rosmarie nodded. "He would often read to me at night, and I him."_

_Rosmarie nodded in acceptance of the fact. Once the pair had embraced, a motherly type of hug that comforted Maria to no end, Rosmarie left, announcing she needed to fetch something from downstairs._

Maria pulled herself from these thoughts, and picked up the book appreciatively.

Maria recognised the title, and she recognised the writer. She presumed Brigitta had mentioned the title once before, or perhaps she had even seen it in the library. Lowering herself down onto the bed, she opened the book and flicked through the pages interestingly. Once satisfied, Maria began to read from the beginning, and soon became enthralled in the descriptive, poetic passages and the truly evocative choice of language.

Immersed in the words for over an hour at least, Maria failed to notice someone entering the bedroom with a warm drink for her. A figure stood in the doorway, and judging by its silhouette it was male. He leant against the door frame, watching his wife as she read. Despite the enthusiasm and awe in her deep, blue eyes whilst she continued to read, he could also notice the pain, the fatigue and the monotonous torment that riddled her mind. Her mind had become a labyrinth of passages, and without help the grief seemed to become lost – it would never disappear; it would never leave until it saw the light as guidance, the light that would steer it away and leave her be.

Georg eventually spoke, his voice laced with nerves and trepidation, "What are you reading?"

His sudden entrance made Maria jump, understandably. Being so immersed in the words, she had failed to notice her husband come in. Her hands fumbled, and she dropped the book into her lap.

Georg seemed to sense the reasoning for her momentary silence and confusion and gestured to the cup of warm liquid, "I brought us both a drink. And Rosmarie was downstairs, she said–"

"Yes?" Maria voiced, expectantly. Her tone raised, almost breathless and exasperated.

"She said that you had something for me." It was not a question, but his voice still rose at the end of the sentence.

Maria realised what her husband meant, and with her head motioned to the bed. Georg obliged and sat, but only at the end of the bed, so he was directly facing his wife. He placed the drinks on the bedside table. He took pride in watching her for a few moments, and had it not been for their situation, the corners of his lips would have risen in a small smile as he enveloped the beauteous features of his wife. His heart ached as he realised the distance that had formed between them over the past weeks.

Both husband and wife knew of Rosmarie's ulterior motives for giving Maria the book.

Content and relaxed in his presence, Maria re–opened the book and began to read aloud. It was almost as though the two of them were back in Paris, where one would read aloud to the other as they listened silently. Georg knew the play well as he noticed the bold title on the front cover, and therefore did not speak of previous scenes and acts when she began to read from her previous place:

"_Bet their comfort we are coming thither. Gracious England hath lent us good Siward and ten thousand men; an older and a better soldier none that Christendom gives out."_

"_Would I could answer this comfort with the like! But I have words that would be howl'd out in the desert air, where hearing should not latch them."_

"_What concern they? The general cause? Or is it a fee–grief due to some single breast?"_

"_No mind that's honest but in it shares some woe, though the main part pertains to you alone."_

"_If it be mine, keep it not from me, quickly let me have it."_

Georg continued to watch Maria intently as she read. Her voice changed as the characters alternated, offering her opinion as her tone leaped from one pitch to another. His eyes would often fall to look at her stomach, but they were promptly pulled away as they began to shine with tears adamant to fall. But he controlled himself, and continued to watch and listen to her in silence. He noticed that the scene included Macduff, only one of Macbeth's threats during the play, just before he learnt about the murder of his wife and children.

"_Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, which shall possess them with the heaviest sound that ever yet they heard."_

"_Humh! I guess at it."_

"_Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes savagely slaughter'd. To relate the manner were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer, to add the death of you."_

"_Merciful heaven! What, man! Ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; give sorrow words–"_

Maria began to falter.

"_Give sorrow words–" _She stopped again, but this time pursued and continued in a weak and breaking voice. _"The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er fraught heart, and bids it break."_

Silence then fully descended on the couple – Maria sat beneath the bed sheets, her fingers interwoven and attempting to provide herself with a reasonable distraction, and Georg sat above; holding a heavy breath and often glancing upwards to catch a glimpse of his wife. Both of them suddenly knew the reasons for Rosmarie giving them that book; the reasons for giving them these moments alone.

"I didn't even know," whispered Maria eventually. Georg knew she was referring to the baby she had miscarried. "Maybe if I'd known, if I'd stopped and noticed what was happening, then maybe the baby would have–"

"Maria," Georg stopped her from continuing, unable to accept the words leaving her mouth – those which blamed herself for what had happened. "This was not your fault. The doctor said that, Rosmarie said that. I'm saying that."

"Then why do I feel guilty? If I am not to blame, then why does my mind tell me different?"

"Because you loved our baby. You feel responsible because you loved our child unconditionally and because you feel you should have been able to stop it. But you couldn't, Maria. Please believe me."

After Georg had paused for a moment, he took a deep breath and began to reveal information he hoped would ease Maria's mind, even if only slightly. He noticed her looking down at her lap, but still spoke. "Agathe had a miscarriage too, you know. Her first pregnancy, and in between Brigitta and Marta…" Georg stopped, taking a brief pause before continuing again. "I just want you to know, Maria, that things will get better eventually. I promise they will."

Maria looked up at her husband, tearful as she latched her hand onto his. There was also sorrow in her eyes, and silently she was saying sorry for his losses. It did help, to know that she was not the first, and would not be the last, woman who had lost a baby, and to have living proof in the form of her husband that life could continue. The seven children Agathe had bore him, the seven children that now called her mother, were proof that happiness could be found after these times. Maria then began to confess how she felt, hoping that it would instigate further the much needed conversation they needed. "It hurts," she admitted. "I never knew about the baby, but it feels as though my heart has been ripped out."

"I know," was Georg's response as he lovingly soothed her hand with his thumb, moving closer to her on the bed.

There were a few moments silence between the Maria and Georg, before the latter spoke up.

"I feel at fault," he admitted. "If I had taken the commission, or if I had recognised the signs then we could have found another route. If I had been more prepared for this, we could have devised another plan, we could have–"

"Georg stop, please. There is nothing different you could have done."

"It is my job to keep this family safe. I didn't…" he trailed off, but spoke again before he could be interrupted. "I put all of us in danger, you and the children. And our baby."

Maria now reached out for his other hand, and once she had clutched it in her grasp, she began to speak. The brief moment of silence between them had come to make Maria realise that neither of them were at fault, and now that her husband had admitted he did not blame her, she was going to do the same. "You could have done nothing differently. This is not your fault, Georg, and I will never think that."

Georg looked at her with sincere and gracious eyes. Feeling their hands together; their fingers intertwined, he pulled her gently towards him and let her fall against his chest. He wrapped his arms securely around her, revelling in their embrace, the one he had missed for so long. Their frames were fraught, exhausted after spending such a time apart, so Georg lowered himself steadily onto the bed and turned over, allowing the two of them to lay in their embrace. Maria was a little to his side, half of her body atop of his, her head on his chest, one of her arms draped across his stomach.

"I'm sorry for shutting you out," Maria murmured against his chest. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I understand why you did it. There is no need to apologise, please."

Neither of them spoke again for the next few hours. Their embrace lasted for longer than either could recall. When tiredness completely overwhelmed them, husband and wife fell asleep in each others arms, both receiving the best nights sleep either had experienced in a long time.

* * *

**A/N: **Obviously the credit for _Macbeth _has to go to William Shakespeare. It's one of my favourite plays, even though I'm doing _King Lear _and some sonnets for my literature coursework this year and loving that too. So let's just say I love all his work.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Thank you for all of the response. All the political talk in here was true (at least I think it all was, I'd be a poor history student if I was using false information) but not around the right specific times. But I'm using my creative licence now, just because it adds more to the chapter. Just one more chapter after this, please bear with me while I complete it, I do want it to cover mostly everything. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

_**Scars to Heal, Mountains to Climb**_

The next couple of days passed in a blur, the whole house was almost in bliss. The rest of the household could feel the difference in Georg and Maria's relationship since that night, both in the atmosphere that no longer felt palpable but comfortable for all, and also the visual closeness of the couple. There would barely be a moment in the evening where Maria was not curled up into Georg's side, his arms wrapped around her shoulders and hers draped across his chest. Maria would fall asleep resting against him more often than not, which caused everyone to smile happily, and especially Rosmarie, and when Georg would wake her to go to bed, he would follow her.

All seemed to have come right eventually.

This happiness was only marred on the third day after the distance had been closed, and it had nothing to do with the newly married couple. It was Hans that approached Georg one day when most of the children were either inside, occupied with a board game, sat in a chair reading, or in Marta and Gretl's case outside tending to the animals with their mother.

Georg had been sat playing a familiar board game with his four oldest children, and happened to be losing badly, when the old man entered the room, a pensive look across his face. It took him clearing his throat to call Georg's attention, but when he did he could see the seriousness in his eyes. Excusing himself from the game, momentarily ignoring the protests of his children but afterwards promising he would join them for another game later, he followed Hans into the study.

This room had become almost Georg's solace. It was his sanctuary away from the world when it had all become too much to carry on his own. He often wondered as to the reasons why he found such comfort in this room, and in the end had determined that it was because it resembled his study back at the villa. _Back home_. Georg shook his head, ever determined to relieve himself of the sombre feelings he had towards leaving his homeland. He knew that his wife, and children, had all worked their way through these tumultuous emotions, and so had he the night before. He smiled tenderly as he remembered the conversation with his wife when she had entered the bedroom to find him almost silent bar the non–committal grunts and murmurs.

She had always been able to read him, and this time was no exception. Maria had done nothing but lowered herself down on the bed beside him, rested her head on his shoulder and revealed her actual fears of leaving everything she had known behind. At times, he almost despised himself for pulling her from everything she had once become accustomed to. He hated that so soon after their marriage, she had been forced from her homeland and everything she had ever known.

But his wife, the woman who had brought love and music back into his life, had noticed the look in his eyes, and completely retaliated his theory without so much as a word of confession leaving his lips. She had reassured him that no matter what happened to them all in the future, she would be behind him, and would never even think about turning back. She _loved _him, and despite all that had happened she would never regret that. Georg had then proceeded, in gratitude, to press his lips to hers tenderly, and after being consoled of his fears, had fallen asleep in her arms.

"Georg, I don't want to scare you, but…"

Georg pulled himself from his thoughts and looked at the old man he considered almost a father figure. "What is it?" When a moment of silence passed between them, Georg spoke again. "Hans, tell me please."

"I don't think Switzerland will be safe for you anymore," he confessed.

"Why? Has something happened?"

"Oh no, nothing has happened. Trust me," Hans spoke firmly, attempting to calm the younger man down. "I just fear for our stability. As you know, Austria is now under the control of Hitler and the Third Reich, and I hear rumours that Italy may be falling into their clutches… The Nazis also seem to have pulled the Soviets on side, and if the two of those great powers are working together, well…"

Georg nodded, swallowing.

"It seems that most of Europe are falling into their hands. If we do too, then you won't be safe here. None of you are official citizens, and I feel some of the Nazis would know you on sight," Hans paused. "And even if the invasion does not come and we hold firm, a war will rage over Europe, that much is clear. No one can tell when it will be…"

"It's not safe here, anymore," Georg sighed, throwing his head into his hands. An ideal situation for him would have been to remain in Switzerland until the Reich had fallen, and then return to Austria. It had been optimistic of him to think that could happen. There was no chance at all that he could remain in Europe without placing his family in the midst and throes of a great war. He had been at the forefront of one, and he would put neither Maria or his children in the danger of its repercussions.

"I've been making some plans for you," spoke Hans, now sitting in his desk chair and pulling out a world map from one of his drawers.

The sound of the opening and closing drawer caught Georg's attention just as much as Han's admission.

"You have?" asked Georg.

Hans nodded, motioning for Georg to join him.

Once Georg was across by the older man's side, Hans began to point out the route he believed the family could take. "Travelling through France will not be a problem… Just as long as you reach the west coast and get onto a ship." As Hans' finger moved through France and to a port on said coast, Georg's eyes followed with full attention. "The voyage is calculated at about a week, maybe more, but you should reach America safely."

"America?"

Hans looked up at Georg, knowing that his exasperated expression was not out of not thinking this before. Hans knew he had, because they had mentioned it in previous conversations. It was only shock that this plan would actually be put into action soon.

"You know it's the safest plan for all of you."

"Thank you," Georg spoke sincerely, watching as the old man rose to his feet. A sturdy hand shake came next, one between two great friends that had developed over just weeks.

Hans merely accepted his gratitude with the firmness of his hand shake. "You managed to wire your money to the Swiss banks, we figured that when you came with me into town. So that should keep you going fine."

"Will you come too?"

Georg had to ask. For all the fears Hans was voicing to him, it was still unknown as to whether the old couple would follow.

Hans shook his head, a firmness in his gaze. "No. We have lived here all our lives, no one is going to force us anywhere."

Georg let out a small laugh at the man's persistence. "Keep in touch."

"We will."

* * *

Georg knew he had to speak with his wife. There was no chance or reason that he could keep this from her after such an in–depth conversation with Hans. The two of them had essentially planned their route out of Switzerland, out of Europe and into a whole new world. A land so far away it was a completely different continent.

Making his way outside after discovering his wife and two youngest daughters were still outside tending to the animals, Georg let the fresh, mountain air hit him for one of the last times. As his eyes ascended upon the glorious, mountain landscape, he let out a loud sigh. He adored the mountains: their vast figure and the promise of adventure within them. It was not such a deep love that his wife felt, having grown up with the mountains as her guardians, but even for the love he felt whilst with the sea, he would still miss the scenic landscape that forged his homeland. Just the thought of his life, on the other side of those mountains, that he would not be able to return to, at least until the war had ended and Hitler had been cast aside, was heart–wrenching.

But for now he had lost enough tears to emotional good–byes, and therefore continued in his task to find Maria.

When he came across the three ladies, a smile rose on his lips. They never failed to have this effect on him, and he knew that it would never stop.

He approached them cautiously, not wanting to lose this marvellous sight: Maria had lifted Gretl into her arms and was steadying her on the wooden fence as she fed some of the animals, and Marta was close to her mother's side, one arm wrapped around her waist while Maria too had an arm around her daughter.

He could hear Gretl squeal in delight, and Marta give a small giggle.

Deciding to surprise them, Georg crept up behind Marta and then scooped her into his arms. This resulted in a hefty scream from Marta, who then decided to laugh heartily once she recognised the arms to be those of her father.

"Father!" protested Marta weakly, still laughing as she was swayed from side to side in his arms.

The serene moment lasted a couple of minutes, all four of the group smiling widely at the scene of pure familial love. It took a few more moments until Georg was able to put Marta down on the ground, always feeling as though their embraces never lasted long enough. Once his arms were free, he gently brought his hand to his youngest child's cheek affectionately, causing Gretl to give him a toothy grin.

His eyes then averted to look at his wife, who was smiling unconditionally, and lovingly, at him. It took Maria a few moments to realise that he needed to speak with her about something, the scene beforehand had left so much joy in his eyes that it took a while for it to drift aside and reveal the worry and trepidation there.

Maria decided to speak, not leaving his gaze for even a moment, "Marta, Gretl, why don't you two head inside and see what your brothers and sisters are doing? Your father and I need to talk for a moment."

The two children could see the adults needed to talk about something, and left with a chorus of "yes mother" and headed back inside.

Left alone, Maria's hand immediately went to his arm. "What is it?"

It took Georg a few moments to form his words correctly, he wanted to approach this as delicately as he could. "Do you remember when I told you that Hans and I have been speaking?"

Maria nodded. She had to bite her lip before she responded with a sarcastic comment, something about their "man talk" in the study that she had teased him about before. But Maria could see the seriousness in his expression, and for that reason decided against it.

"Well we spoke again just now. He fears for our safety here," noticing his wife's worried expression, he was quick to reassure her. "Oh no, not from anyone in particular." He could see this reassured her. "He means how Switzerland will hold out to the Third Reich, and also how a war will emerge across Europe."

"You think it's inevitable?"

It was the first time Maria had spoken since Georg had brought up the topic, and she sounded just as daunted at the prospect as he had previously done.

Georg nodded regretfully. "And if it's anything to do with the last war…"

Maria understood his concerns. Her husband had fought in the war, and she had heard his stories on a few occasions. She had seen his battle scars, the first being a time during their honeymoon while she had been inspecting his back tenderly.

"Hans has been looking into a route out of Europe…"

"Oh?"

"… Through France from here, and then a ship across to America."

"America?"

Maria felt like fainting. It was now that she was glad her hand was firmly grasping her husband's arm, otherwise she may have fallen to the ground. America was so _far away _it was daunting to imagine a life there for them all. It would involve a completely new culture, new language, new continent…

"It's the safest option. But," Georg hesitated, and this brought Maria's eyes back up to meet his. "Only if you feel comfortable with it."

Maria was surprised to say the least, but also profoundly touched. The idea that he had thought of her during all of these plans, and was willing to ask her permission before carrying them out. But there was only one answer Maria could give her husband, she could never put the lives of her children or the man she loved and had married in danger. Never would she even contemplate such an idea for the sake of herself.

The hand that was still holding onto her husband's arm slowly moved upwards until it eventually came to rest on his cheek. She rubbed her thumb across it smoothly, admiring the stubble that had appeared from his lack of shaving.

Georg closed his eyes, sighing, leaning into her touch.

"Wherever we go, Georg, as long as we're all together, then I'll be at comfort."

In response, Georg gave a small nod, and in addition to that a small smile that spoke of his gratitude, admiration and love.

Maria then leant forward and attached her lips firmly to those of her husband. As she moved them sensually, affectionately, Georg was yet to respond. In his mind, he was processing the fact that this was the first time she had kissed him since the miscarriage, and his heart was leaping and racing too much for his mind to consider responding just yet. But before he could let her pull away, his mind was put into focus and he responded powerfully.

It was a searing kiss, one that spoke of their true, deep love and the closeness they now shared. The grief that had brought their hearts even closer together than one could even have thought possible at such a time, especially when viewing them on their wedding day or during their honeymoon, was one source of motivation for the kiss. Maria knew now that she deeply trusted her husband with anything life could throw at them, and as her arms wound around his neck and his alternatively around her waist, pulling her even closer, she knew he felt the same. She knew she could never risk letting him go again.


	18. Chapter 18

_5 years later…_

Maria felt herself waking up that morning to an unfamiliar weight landing on her upper legs. The young woman's eyes would have flung open to see whose mystery weight she was feeling atop of her, had it not been for the series of giggling that followed. Maria could distinguish at least three different pitches, and she guessed it had been prompted by her soft moans at being woken this morning. Bringing her hands to her eyes, Maria began to rub them methodically until she could see the rest of her family clearly.

The sight that met her eyes caused Maria to smile widely.

A twelve–year–old Marta and a ten–year–old Gretl stood at the foot of the bed, attempting to cover their mouths in vain as laughter continued to emit from their lips. There was the usual shimmer in their eyes present that would appear whenever they were getting up to mischief, or when the two of them had caught their mother in a compromising, or sleeping, position. Maria would never understand fully why the any of the children found either Georg or herself sleeping humorous.

But as Maria's eyes diverted from the two growing girls, they came to rest on another. Her three–year–old daughter was lying atop of her, resting on her stomach and looking up at her mother with a wide-mouthed grin. One look at the little girl – the one with Georg's brown hair and blue eyes, Maria had never been more thrilled to see she had inherited her father's appearance – told her that she had been the one to wake her.

Unable to resist her daughter's smile any longer, Maria sat up slightly and gathered the little girl in her arms, bringing her closer to her body. However, as Rosmarie's weight shifted slightly, Maria moved uncomfortably. "Careful," she warned her daughter lightly, aware of her rounded stomach. "You don't want to hurt your little brother."

Rosmarie, ever curious about this new family member she was yet to meet, looked down at Maria's stomach. Insistently, she poked the rounded form with her index finger, an inquisitive look across her face. "How do you know it a boy, mama?"

Just as Maria was about to answer her with some excuse, a male voice sounded as he came through the bedroom door, a tray of food in his hands. "Oh, we think it's about time there was another man around the house," Georg answered, shooting his wife a smile as their eyes met. His heart positively melted at the sight of his wife and youngest daughter sat together on the bed. "After all, your papa is getting quite lonely," Georg continued to comment dramatically, to which Maria rolled her eyes.

As little Rosmarie took in what her father had said, Georg sat himself down on his side of the bed, placing down the tray and winking at Maria. Maria was about to ask for the reasons to this new style of breakfast before Rosmarie spoke up.

"But there's nothing wrong with girls!" Rosmarie responded indignantly. She then turned to face Maria. "Is there, mama?"

"Absolutely not," Maria spoke adamantly, pressing a kiss to her daughter's head. "Your father is only joking, he loves being surrounded by ladies really."

"I could think of no one better to be in the company of," Georg backed up his wife, shooting her another small wink before motioning to their other two daughters to join them on the bed. "Who better to sit with than all of you lovely ladies?" He tapped the noses of Marta, Gretl and then his youngest daughter affectionately, causing them to giggle in response. "Now, without further ado, I think we should let your mother here eat her breakfast."

All three of the girls seemed to nod aggressively, and Maria could not help but smile affectionately at all of them. It was an endearing thought to prepare her breakfast on the morning of her birthday - it had been the subject of conversation all this week, and it did seem that the children were more excited than she was. The three youngest girls would definitely be the ones to fit in that category. The rest of the children were presumably downstairs, and Georg knew that they were preparing a party for his wife later that afternoon. Banners and streamers had been made, and balloons had been purchased a few days ago which had revealed plenty of grins from all the children. Brigitta was the only child not to be here today, a trip with her book club falling on the same days and Maria not having the heart to not let her go. But their little bookworm would be back later this evening, and Maria could not wait to see her.

A chorus of "Happy birthday" soon filled the room, coming from the four participants that were sat up on the bed. Rosmarie giggled into Maria's nightgown, and the two girls at the foot of the bed smiled up at their parents.

"Thank you, my dears," Maria responded lovingly. "Now, if you all go and get dressed, you can all choose something to do today."

"But, mother!" Marta protested. "It's your turn to choose today!"

To prevent further arguments, Maria conceded and lifted her hands to show her children her defeat visually. By this time, Rosmarie had begrudgingly lifted herself from her mother's lap and had joined her two older sisters as they left the room to get dressed.

This left only Maria and Georg on the bed. Before the two of them could be disturbed again, Georg leant across and kissed her cheek, and further applying pressure to her lips when Maria turned her head. A few moments of tender, loving kisses ceased, and Georg mumbled lightly against her lips, "Happy birthday, darling."

* * *

The family had been living in America for just under five years. After leaving Switzerland and the home of their friends Hans and Rosmarie, the family had travelled by ship to the great country and steadily built their lives there. Their home had not been an easy find – it had taken months for them all to agree on a house, and eventually the family had all decided on a space large enough, with spacious grounds and that was also close by to the local school.

A year later, Maria had discovered she was expecting another child. It was a difficult experience to begin with, unwanted memories of pain and distance surfacing, but the healing and recuperating done in Switzerland had proved influential as Maria and Georg soon became incredibly excited about the experience. Georg, being the protective man he was, had often been on the end of frustrated and tiresome comments from his wife after he had been fussing over her constantly. But the time had arrived when their child would be born, and Rosmarie came into the world – a healthy, baby girl with a huge set of lungs.

A few months ago when Maria had found about her third pregnancy, the family had once again been ecstatic. All were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their new baby brother or sister, although the question of the baby's gender had soon been answered by their parents, who soon came to the conclusion that the child would be a boy. None of them could understand their judgement when it seemed there was no evidence to support them, but their parents were rarely wrong.

Maria soon found that her birthday was a huge success and an incredibly happy day for her. Her birthdays always had been since she had become a member of the family – both the children and her husband would not let the special day pass without a fuss.

And a fuss it had been. The day had begun with Maria being served breakfast in bed, an idea she soon discovered to be Georg's who had been helped by Liesl in the kitchen, and then a trip downstairs where all of the older children had prepared a room for a party. Banners had been strung from the roof, and balloons had been blown up and dotted all around their sitting room.

Maria had gasped as she entered, with Georg just behind her. She felt his hands reach down to her sides, resting on her hips, as she marvelled with wide eyes at the preparations their children had been the master of.

Presents had followed almost straight after, all of the children insisting that she needed to open them as soon as possible. Maria was quite dismayed that Brigitta had not been here to share the joy of opening presents, but the looks on her children's faces told her that she could not deny them this request. All of her presents from the children had been wrapped in brown paper packaging and string, a sentiment that brought a tear to her eye. It was touches such as these which touched her heart more than the gifts inside the wrapping, although she definitely did enjoy the presents she had been bought.

The children had all put their money together, and she presumed some from her husband too, as she opened the gift and saw a wonderfully decorated jewellery box. It was a wooden box, and had been carved beautifully to make it a lovely sight to the eye. Maria could hardly describe it, or her emotions, so all she could muster up was a tearful thank you to all of the family.

The children had, surprisingly, bought her a few more gifts. They were only small though, a few bare essentials that she had needed for a while but had never found the time to go and buy from the shops. Once all of the presents from the children had been opened, Maria found her gaze curiously resting upon one more present on the floor, wrapped differently to the others.

"Who is that from?" she asked curiously, her question to everyone but her gaze directed at Kurt, who was the closest to the present.

Her youngest son looked at the label on the present, and soon spoke up, "Rosmarie and Hans!"

"Oh!" Maria responded breathlessly, raising a hand to her heart.

She accepted the present as it was passed to her. Hans and Rosmarie had kept in contact with the family ever since their departure five years ago. At first it had been letters, asking how the family was and how they are settling in. Once little Rosmarie had been born, Maria had sent her old friend a letter about the birth, to which she had received a joyful response. But soon, the information that the old couple had moved to America was revealed. One of their daughters, who had children of her own, lived in America, and her parents had travelled across out of Europe to see one of their new grandchildren, especially since the birth had been a difficult process.

The old friends had met up with each other only a couple of times over the two years, but those times had been special. Rosmarie had met their daughter, and the families had shared a meal with each other and a lovely night of talking and catching up with the times they had missed.

Maria opened the wrapping paper and revealed a thick book, inside the space for photographs. A message was written on the first page: _For all of your new memories with all your family, your loving friends Hans and Rosmarie. _Maria read the message aloud when the children asked about it, and upon flicking through the first few pages she saw that their friends had added a few photographs already. There were a few of them all together on their last visit, and also one of Maria and Rosmarie together.

Upon hearing of this photograph, Rosmarie edged closer towards her mother. "Is that me?" she exclaimed, pointing at the photograph and the small bundle, just visible, in her mother's arms.

"Mhm," Maria responded, lifting her daughter so she could sit beside her. "When you were a tiny baby."

"Will new baby look like me?"

Rosmarie asked in her endearing voice. Maria chuckled, and lightly pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Maybe," she answered.

Georg then picked up their daughter, the rest of the room laughing as she squealed in surprise.

The rest of the day had been a lovely experience, too. Dinner had been prepared already, all of Maria's favourite foods, and then afterwards a wonderful chocolate cake. Kurt was licking his lips as he saw it, and the rest of the children had wide eyes. But Maria was adamant that she would be saving the cake until Brigitta returned home later that evening, despite the small protests from the rest of the children.

When their sister had returned later that night, all of the children had practically pulled her into the dining room, where the cake was still sitting torturously. Maria then had proceeded to cut the cake, and gave a piece to every one of the children. Some ate more cleanly than others, a few of the children leaving more chocolate around their faces than in their mouths. Maria had taken some time in cleaning Rosmarie's mouth, while Kurt and Louisa had done it themselves in embarrassment.

But after their sweet delicacy and all the excitement of the day, all of the children were ready to go to sleep. It took barely any time to put them all to bed, the younger children falling asleep almost immediately, and some of the older children close to sleep, but reading until that happened. Maria had shared a few words with Brigitta before returning back downstairs, asking how her trip had been and whether she had enjoyed it. From her fast rambling and the wide smile on her face, Maria assumed she had.

Maria then walked downstairs and joined her husband in the sitting room. She expected him to be sat back across the comfy sofa, but instead he was stood waiting for her. Maria gave him a confused look. Approaching him, she brushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead, putting it back into place with the rest of his hair. "You must be tired," she commented. The implications being she was ready to go to bed too, but not necessarily to sleep.

Georg could see the glimmer in her eyes, and it took all of his strength and will–power not to take her in his arms and walk right back to their bedroom with her. But he still had his gift to give her; therefore he took her hand and began to lead her away from the sitting room. "I have something for you."

They were headed towards the music room. "But Georg, I thought you contributed to the children's present."

"I did, a little," he explained. "But there's still something else."

Maria was about to protest, before he silenced her by placing a finger to her lips.

She remained silent until they walked into the music room. Georg led her to their grand piano, and taking his seat he motioned for her to join him. She did, nestling comfortably by his side. Maria then watched as he lifted his arm to take something from the top, before he brought it back down and handed it to her.

"Thank you." She took it.

It was wrapped in plain paper, and as Maria pulled it away she revealed what looked like sheets of paper. But upon further inspection, Maria found that they were sheets of music. She looked up at her husband, but before she could ask, he answered.

"You're quite good now," he commented. "You'll want something challenging to play."

"Only quite?" Maria teased him.

"Well, _very _good. But that's all down to your teacher," Georg winked.

Maria laughed in response to his actions, before leaning in towards him. Just before she was about to press her lips to his, she whispered a, "Thank you."

Georg kissed her back, allowing the kiss to linger.

"Thank you," Maria repeated again. "For such a wonderful birthday."

Georg looked back at her sincerely. "You deserve nothing less."

Maria looked away from him shyly, before his fingers were under her chin and bringing her gaze back to him. When their eyes met again, he kissed her.

Once they had pulled away, Georg fingered the pieces of paper. "So, do you want to try one?"

Maria nodded mutely, flicking through the sheets to see if she could recognise any of the pieces. She recognised one, picked it up and set it so her eyes could see as she played. As soon as Maria's fingers descended upon the keys, Georg wrapped an arm around her waist, letting his hand rest upon her small baby bump.

He could scarcely believe that, after the experience five years ago, they were living a happy life in America with a child of their own and a new baby on the way. Liesl was courting a young man she had met at school, and although Georg had been against the idea at first, he was now beginning to like the man. Of course, that had partly been down to Maria. Fredrich had become a skilful engineer after finding a job and had settled down well, and Louisa was choosing to go to university in a few months. The younger of their children were all in school still, but all progressing well. Kurt edged more towards the sciences, whereas Brigitta was still into books and excelled in her literature classes. Marta and Gretl were still in the early stages of their schooling, but were academic all–round. And Rosmarie was becoming incredibly mischievous and kept the two of them on their toes.

The music played around him as Georg looked down at Maria's rounded stomach, marvelling at the new life they had created. He barely noticed when Maria had finished playing, and when her hand had travelled down to rest over his on her stomach.

It was then that he looked up and met her gaze.

The few tears that appeared in Maria's eyes told them they were thinking about the same thing: leaving Austria, and how their life had changed so much since then. At first it had amazed them both that they could read each other without saying a word, but now they just saw it as normal.

"Do you ever wonder–"

"More when Rosmarie was younger. I always imagined what the baby would have been like," Georg explained.

They shared a small smile. "I did too," Maria admitted, resting her head on his shoulder.

Their newfound silence was comfortable. It was rare they could find such silence nowadays in a house with eight children. Georg pressed a kiss into Maria's hair, causing her to raise her head to look at him.

"Bed?" he asked.

"To sleep."

Georg laughed, pressing another kiss onto her temple. Both of them knew that the day had tired the children out, and it seemed it had had the same effect on them too. "As you wish, birthday girl."

It was then that they both headed upstairs to bed, happy in the knowledge that their love in these past years had been cemented and that its emergence had strengthened their relationship in ways that nothing else could – their scars had been healed. Georg held her closely to him that night, sleeping with a smile on his face, his hands resting on her rounded stomach tenderly, her own hands covering his.

_End_

**A/N: **Thanks to every single person that read, reviewed, put this story on their alert or in their favourites. Seriously, all of the feedback has been great. I hope you all liked this chapter as an ending, hopefully it tied up any ends there may have been, and also explained their life a little since leaving Switzerland. Please let me know what you've thought to it, and once again thank youuuu!_  
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